


Play Dead

by extenuatingcircumlocution



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: AU, Blood and Violence, Dissection, Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Mercy Killing, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smoking, Tags will be added as the story goes along, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, also this might be confusing for a bit. sorry about that, incredibly slow. itll make snails seem like theyre in a big time rush, of an animal i should specify, or something, shoulda added that tag before but jeez we're on a whole other level now huh, slurpees, some overall reference to dead animals, the anxiety i feel in posting this is not quantifiable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extenuatingcircumlocution/pseuds/extenuatingcircumlocution
Summary: Edward Nygma doesn't have a past.Oswald Cobblepot doesn't have a future.The present couldn't be more complicated.





	1. The Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not so much a novice at writing fanfiction as I am at posting it, but I'm gonna try anyway.
> 
> Thank you, Jewel, for being so sweet to me about this. Your kindness is more than I deserve. <3

Once the bus passed Gotham city limits, there was no longer any semblance of a plan. Ed could get off at the next stop, or in ten stops, and it would be all the same. Gotham was Gotham, after all. Or so he’d heard.

  
He hadn’t been able to stop fidgeting the whole bus ride, eyes glued stubbornly to the window, watching as clean white buildings turned into the dark, foreboding towers Gotham was known for. Not so much a glowing city as Metropolis had been, but more of a grimy hub of suspicious characters and a lingering fog that seemed to settle over everything in sight.

  
Ed couldn’t be happier to see it, finally, after years of dreaming and intending and planning and now finally _doing_.

  
It was late and besides the driver there were only three other people on the bus, older men in rugged clothing with blank expressions, looking like a brutal social commentary under the flickering white lights. One of them had made eye contact with Ed and Ed had grinned wide in order to appease whatever code of conduct might be required of him on public transport, but the man’s face never changed from a firm grimace.

  
He waited, fingers tapping nervously on his thigh as he watched the streetlights fly by.

  
He pulled the string at the sight of a convenience store and he ran off as soon as the bus slowed to a stop, shouting a loud “Thank you!” at the driver as the doors swung closed.

  
The world was dark but the convenience store was gleaming. Ed tried to count in his head how much spending money he had for this outing, watching his breath take shape in the cold air. If he was being generous, maybe he could spend seventeen dollars and thirty six cents. If he wanted to be realistic, maybe it would be a better estimate to say fifteen dollars and twelve cents.

He decided to spend no more than ten dollars.

  
The door opened and a bell jingled above his head and Ed blinked delightedly at how it was _right out of a movie_ before making eye contact with the bored clerk at the register.  
“Welcome,” she said, resting her head on her palm, her other hand flipping the page of a book.

  
“Hello,” Ed said, beaming. A teenager working at a convenience store. How very _authentic_.

  
He strutted slowly down the aisles, eyeing the chips and the energy drinks, the frozen burritos and packaged cold-cut sandwiches. There was a slurpee machine in the corner, stacks of humongous cups right next to it, making Ed blanch. Just the thought of that brain freeze…

  
Because Ed had had slurpees before, of course. They weren’t a novelty. But to have such a large portion… He wouldn’t be able to finish half without freezing his brain solid.  
The only sounds were the low sounds of pop music on the radio, the popping of the girl’s bright pink bubble gum, and Ed’s converse on the linoleum. It was the most mundane kind of symphony, almost cacophonous. He would be repulsed by the girl’s smacking mouth if he wasn’t so excited to hear it.

  
“How much for a hot dog?” he asked. He knew they were probably disgusting. They were rolling under a heating lamp and probably had been all day, at least. There was no quality guarantee posted on the glass, either, just the words “BARGAIN DEAL” in bright yellow font.

  
“It’s a dollar for one,” the clerk answered, eyes still peeled to her book. “One fifty for two. A bargain deal.” Her voice never changed register, always in that uninterested deadpan.

  
“I’ll have two, then,” Ed said. “And this water bottle.”

  
The girl finally moved her eyes from the page with a sigh, gently shutting the book and moving to fetch the hot dogs. She rang him up and twirled her blonde pigtails as she waited for him to pull out his money.

  
The name on her tag read “Ecco”, the label fading and peeling at the edges. “How long have you worked here?” he asked.

  
She shrugged and put the money in the register, waiting for the receipt. “A year, maybe.”

Ed picked up the boxed hot dogs and paused. “You don’t really let rats on them, do you?”

“Excuse me?” Her voice strayed from monotone for the first time during Ed’s visit.

  
“I’m just asking because I saw this special on TV once and there were rats on the food under the heating lamps in stores like this.”

  
“No, I’ve never seen a rat crawling on the hot dogs. What the hell, dude?”

  
Sighing a breath of relief, Ed went to pour ketchup onto his hot dogs. “That’s great. I was nervous but I don’t think you’d allow that sort of atrocity to happen in your store. You seem like a wonderful employee.”

  
Another smack of gum. “Sure,” Ecco said.

“Do people really drink those?” Ed asked, gesturing with his head to the slurpee machines.

  
“Yeah, they’re really popular.” Ecco smiled. “I like the cherry flavor.”

  
“No, I know they’re good but do people really drink the whole cup? It’s so huge.”

  
“What, you wouldn’t have the stomach for it?” Ecco laughed and rested her chin back in her palm. “People gulp the whole thing down.”

  
“Fascinating,” Ed said, just as the door swung open and the bell chimed again.

  
A figure in all black passed him in a hurry, making a bee line for the slurpee machine. Ed observed the back of this figure, clothed in a big dark hoodie and jeans. Black, spiky hair and pale skin and the pressing of a button to summon Coca-Cola flavored slurpee into the largest cup available.

  
Ed watched, entranced.

  
The figure rushed past him again, slamming the cup on the counter as he squeezed the cap onto it.

  
“Are you in a hurry, Ozzie?” Ecco asked lightly.

  
“Not really,” the figure said and Ed felt his heart flutter at the sound. If the earlier mundane symphony was cacophonous and discordant, this person’s voice was the most melodious music he’d ever heard. Whatever the opposite of mundane was, this was it. “A pack of Pall Malls, please, thank you.”

  
Ecco slid them over and rang him up. Ed observed them closely, watched the curious slope of Ozzie’s nose, the shape of his odd hair, the black polish on his fingernails. The mysterious customer paid and Ecco said, “Bye, Ozzie,” in a giddy voice, leaning over the counter to press her lips to his cheek.

  
He hissed out a curse word and wiped his face, stumbling toward the door.

  
And then Ozzie was gone, out of the hot light and into the chilly, pitch black night.

  
“Who was that?” Ed said after a moment of staring at the door and holding his hot dogs in either hand awkwardly (had he been doing that this whole time?), water waiting on the counter.

  
“That’s my girlfriend’s… uh… brother,” Ecco answered.

  
Ed tried to process the cheek kiss and the strange way they regarded each other and decided she must be telling the truth. How would he have been able to tell otherwise, anyway?

  
“Thank you for this,” Ed said, gesturing to his food.

  
Ecco shrugged, opening her book again. “It’s literally my job, so don’t sweat it. Those hot dogs are terrible anyway.” She pushed a plastic bag towards him. “Put your stuff in this. Might be easier to carry.”

  
Ed smiled as he exited the store with his bag in hand and felt a gleeful jump in his stomach when Ecco smiled back, even offering him a tiny wave.

  
“I’ve made a friend,” Ed muttered to himself in the dark outside the blinding light of the store. “Ed, you have a friend.”

  
There was a snicker from somewhere beside him and he jumped in surprise. He’d really thought he was alone.

  
Ed turned to see the silhouette of the mystery customer, sitting on the curb with his face only barely lit up by the burning tail of the cigarette between his lips.

  
There was a voice in his head snapping at him to be polite, _don’t make a fool of yourself!_ , to stop saying stuff like that out loud because it just made him look like an idiot.

  
_Yes, sorry_.

  
“You’re Ozzie, right?” Ed said, trying to use icebreakers he had heard in movies and on TV.

  
Ozzie coughed on his smoke-- _which serves him right… such a sick habit_ \--and turned to glare at Ed. Then, he stood up off the curb slowly.

  
Ed smiled in anticipation, his hand twitching nervously at his side in case the stranger expected a shake. That was protocol, after all, even though Ed would probably much prefer if they kept their hands to themselves. After all, this man was a smoker. Who knew who’d touched the papers of those cigarettes before he’d shoved them in his mouth? And now Ed might have to exchange social courtesies and, thus, bacteria… Who had come up with this rule?

  
“I’m Edward Na--I mean, Ny--Oh.”

  
The figure was walking away, down the street, sipping at his huge slurpee as he faded away into the black.

  
“See you later,” Ed said, taking the stranger’s place on the curb to eat his food.

  
It didn’t taste half bad.


	2. Alibis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left kudos, particularly to those of you who left a comment here or said something nice on twitter. I love you with my whole heart <3

Ed had spent much less money at the convenience store than he had expected. Bargain deal, indeed.

All he had on his person was his money and cell phone. The less he took with him, the less his absence would be felt.

Ed walked around the streets of Gotham for several hours, perhaps not a brilliant idea since it was very late and the city was notorious for its crime. Though, it wasn’t exactly like he had much of a choice.

At around three in the morning, Ed realized that he was exhausted and that he couldn’t keep walking around anymore. He weighed the pros and cons of getting a motel room and after debating for far too long and deciding he couldn’t spare so much money for one night, he decided he would take shelter in an alley behind a dumpster. All he needed was a few hours of sleep and then he could truly start a life in Gotham.

Edward Nygma. A Gothamite.

* * *

He woke with a start at the clanging of metal somewhere in the alley. He quickly got to his feet in a defensive stance just to see a cat jump out of the dumpster and strut off.

“Of course,” he muttered. He checked his cell phone for the time and was distraught to see he’d slept longer than he’d intended. There was a crick in his neck and his legs ached from the position he slept in. He was just grateful that it was cold and that he didn’t sweat very much.

The bus was late yesterday and it had knocked everything off schedule. He was supposed to have arrived in Gotham much earlier yesterday, get a job, and not have to worry too much about saving money. He’d been rather optimistic, forgetting all about his schedule once he’d seen the brooding lights of Gotham City, but spending the night in an alley was not what he had planned at all.

He had several addresses in his phone, numbers to call for jobs.

A seasonal job at a department store. Quiet work in a library. A server position at an unpopular “family-style dining” restaurant.

The varied jobs weren’t promising and certainly weren’t inviting but any one of them would be a start.

“Hello, my name is Edward Nygma,” he practiced on the bus to the department store. “Nygma. Nyg. Ma. Nygma. My name is Edward Nygma.”

Noon on a crowded public bus probably wasn’t the ideal location to practice for an interview.

The looks he got were evidence of that.

Not that he was too successful with his job hunt.

The lady at the department store told him coldly that they were no longer hiring and the restaurant manager on the phone wistfully informed him that the position had been filled the previous day.

He went to the library, just to check, spirits low.

The Gotham Public Library was nestled between two run down buildings: an auto store of some kind on one side and a greasy dive restaurant on the other.

To day it seemed out of place would be an understatement.

It was two in the afternoon when Ed walked through the library doors. It was quiet and mostly empty, save for a few patrons who were either tiny children or senior citizens.

The librarian at the counter smiled tightly at him when he entered.

“You’re hiring, yes?” Ed asked, trying to match her smile.

“I think so,” she replied, and then she held up her index finger and was on the phone for a moment. Ed bit his lip in wait, taking in the crisp smell of the air conditioning, the coarse fibers of the purple carpet, the proud framed posters of milk and books on the walls.

She hung up and smiled. Her glasses were similar to his. “So, yes, we are hiring! I just checked. Do you want to talk to the manager now? She has time for an interview, if you’d like. As you can see, we aren’t very busy.”

Ed nodded ecstatically. “My name is Edward Nygma,” he said, extending his hand even though his arm was stiff. _Just as he’d practiced_. The librarian took his hand and shook, her grip loose. She released him quickly and Ed got the sense that maybe--thankfully--she was as put off by physical niceties as he was.

“I’m Kristen,” she said politely. “Kringle.”

“Oh!” he said excitedly. “That’s very amusing--”

Her eyes narrowed quickly and she bent down behind her desk. “Before you say anything more, I have to do this--sorry--”

When she appeared again she had a sleek deodorant spray in her hand, some magenta bottle of Parisian scent or something, and she smiled apologetically. “You’ll want to smell very nice in your interview, right?”

Ed’s stomach churned at the memory of having spent the night behind a dumpster. “Do I smell terrible?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “I mean, I just want you to make a good impression, that’s all.”

She sprayed him until the scent was in his eyes and he was sure his blood had turned fuschia.

Then, Kristen kindly led him to the back room, where the managing librarian had her office.

After an agonizing moment of wait, Kristen invited him to enter.

“Please, take a seat,” said the weary woman inside.

The managing librarian was Sarah Essen, who he’d emailed before he’d left for the bus and who had not replied.

The room was cold cement, with mint green pleather arm chairs on either side of a pale metal desk. The office was dimly lit by a loose-hanging ceiling fan. Ed kept casting his eyes up to look at it, fidgeting with his fingers as he sat across the yellowing desk from the manager.

“You’re here for a job?” she asked after a period of clicking on her computer. “Do you have a resume?”

“No. No. Sorry. I emailed you. Do you need a hard copy? I think I can figure something--”

She waved a hand, turning back to the computer to click some more. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled. “Edward? Yeah, I got your email.” She offered him a sweet smile over the monitor and then went to scanning the screen. “You don’t have any work experience.”

“No, ma’am.” Ed bit his lip. “I hope that isn’t a problem.”

She laughed. “It’s not. You’re young. You’ll have plenty chance to change that.” Her eyes continued to scan his resume. “You’re not from here?”

“I’m from out of town,” he said, clearing his throat.

Sarah Essen nodded. “Well, I hope you have someplace safe to stay for now. These streets are dangerous.”

Ed smiled and decided not to say anything. If he said nothing, then he technically wouldn’t be lying.

“Your high school grades are fantastic, though,” she said, plowing on. “If you’d like I can give you a small position here. You saving for college?”

“Yes.” When had his voice gotten so small? The horrible scent of the deodorant was stinging in his eyes and suddenly he had the fierce desire to shed tears--

“Just make sure to stay in touch, Edward. And stay safe. Gotham is dangerous. I hope it isn’t too much for you.” Her voice seemed genuinely concerned and her brown eyes glanced down almost imperceptibly at his outfit when she spoke, and that confirmed that someone like him shouldn’t live somewhere like Gotham.

He hurried out of her office after shaking her hand--and her grip was firmer than Kristen’s, lingered for longer, just two seconds longer than Ed had anticipated--and murmuring a flurry of thanks.

“How did it go?” Kristen asked and Ed nodded, still overwhelmed. “You got it?” Ed nodded again. “Yes. I know it doesn’t seem like it now because we aren’t busy, but we are understaffed. Lots of kids come here after school.”

“It’s where I used to go,” Ed said, voice low.

“Me too,” Kristen said. She shook her head with a shy look. “I imagine you’d want to get home now. Celebrate getting a job.”

Ed was about to protest but he thought better of it. Keeping the secret of his current… er… _displacement_ was his only option now. “Yes. I’m going to go celebrate now. With my friends. My very good friends. I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed.”

Kristen grinned. “I’m sure.”

Ed backed away to the door, waving at her and trying to match her smile. Suddenly he was tripping backward through the automatic doors and he straightened himself in a rush to save whatever dignity he had left.

He heard Kristen chuckle but his heart was racing and he knew, if he looked up at her, the deodorant scent would be too much for his tear ducts to take.

He walked down three blocks before his lower lip started to tremble and he ducked into an alley to sob. It was just the deodorant but it hurt so much. Somehow it pained his lungs and head too, the fog of it clogging his arteries. He looked up to the sound of retching and saw a girl bent over, far down the alley, her long hair blocking her face. He could tell she was throwing up and he had overstayed his welcome in the alley. This was her moment now. He wiped his eyes and headed for the bus stop.

* * *

 

It took four buses to find the convenience store from yesterday, and this time Ed made sure to store the address in his notes, just in case it slipped his mind.

It was becoming dark again and he nearly cried in delight to see Ecco with her blonde pigtails and pink bubblegum behind the counter.

His one friend.

“I got a job!” he declared proudly.

Ecco startled at his voice, as if the bell hadn’t signalled his presence already. She dropped her phone in surprise. “Oh, it’s you again.”

“Ed,” he corrected. “Edward. Nash--no--”

“Eddie, dear, what are you doing here?” she seemed concerned, almost like Sarah Essen had been. “Did you forget something last night?”

“No… I just… I thought maybe…” What a foolish thought. Ecco had been kind but they weren’t friends. _Who would be friends with you?_

“Where’s your job?” A smack of bubblegum. Ed looked back at her face and saw her resting her chin in her hand, leaning over the counter towards him. Her makeup was strange, asymmetrical, and he was just starting to notice the fried crimps in her hair.

“The public library,” he said.

She made a face. “Boring!” She made a show of yawning.

“It isn’t ideal, but it’s my first job in Gotham and I’d like to make the most of it.” He choked back defensiveness about how libraries were quite the opposite of boring.

“Your first job in Gotham?” she echoed-- _ha, funny_ \--eyebrow raised. “You new in town?”

Ed nodded.

“Eddie, honey. You’re in the wrong place. Go to Metropolis. Or back wherever you came from. Gotham is a dump.”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “No. I won’t. I can’t.”

Some pensive smacking of the bright pink gob in her mouth and then Ecco sighed. “I mean, we do have a great underground scene. You wanna come out tonight with me and my girlfriend? We can show you.”

Ed chewed his lip. “Out? To drink?”

Ecco snickered. “We’ll do much more than that, sweetheart.” She leaned back over the counter and raised her eyebrows salaciously. “I’m pretty sure Ozzie will be there,” she sing-songed.

Ed couldn’t fight the churning in his stomach or the next word that tumbled out of his mouth without permission: “Okay.”


	3. Kill the Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little bit long. I hope it's decent.

Ecco had called her girlfriend, Ivy, as soon as Ed agreed to tag along. 

There were a few hours until Ecco’s shift ended so she and Ed had played a mild version of truth or dare while sitting on the counter as the time fell apart, with few customers interrupting the game. 

Ed had tried to avoid truth, because there was very little about himself that he didn’t want to lock away forever. Ecco, on the other hand, was eager to experiment with both and had a wicked mind about daring Ed to eat almost any nasty concoction she could imagine, her eyes viciously scanning the store whenever Ed uttered the word “dare”.

“You can’t wear that.” Ed looked up from his donut smothered in cheap hot dog relish. Ecco was scrutinizing his outfit and once again Ed was reminded of Sarah Essen and her almost maternal concern about his well-being in Gotham.

“Because Gotham is dangerous?” he ventured, prompting a bark of laughter from Ecco.

“No!” she cried. “Because you look like a nerd!” 

Ed looked down at his sweater and jeans. Ecco had a point though, if only because Ed had worn this outfit for about thirty five hours. Unfortunately, there was a problem. “I don’t have any other clothes,” he said softly and Ecco’s face fell for only a second before she grinned. 

“That means Ivy and I can give you a makeover!” she squealed. At Ed’s expression--which was no doubt a look of reluctance--she waved a hand. “We are professionals, Eddie. We’ll make you look good!” Her tone lowered suggestively. “We’ll make you look hot for Ozzie.”

Ed’s face flushed. “That’s not necessary. I’m not interested in that.”

“ _ Sure you aren’t _ ,” she snickered. “‘Who’s  _ that _ ?’ he says. ‘Who’s  _ that _ ?’ and then pretends like he doesn’t have the hots for him. You’re ridiculous.”

“She’s your girlfriend’s brother. I won’t do anything untoward.”

Ecco made a face. “Untoward? To Ozzie? Be my guest, honey. I’m sure he’d welcome it.” She hopped off the counter and started texting on her phone. “Besides, he’s not exactly Ivy’s brother.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

Ecco shrugged. “They’re weird.”

Ed thought bitterly to himself that all of Gotham was weird, so Ivy and her “brother” couldn’t be that out of the ordinary in a place like this. Then he noticed Ecco was staring at him.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re his type.” 

Ed’s heart sank but he kept his face blank. “I’m not interested, Ecco, so that’s quite alright.” He chewed on his lip. “But what is his type?”

“Not you.” Ecco slipped her phone into the back pocket of her ripped black jeans. “The opposite of you. But Ivy and I can fix that if you want. We can help you make a good impression.”

“I don’t think he was particularly impressed the last time we crossed paths.”

Ecco laughed again. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause he’s a dick. I don’t know what anybody sees in him at first really because he is an asshole, like one of the most judgmental pricks you’ll ever meet--” She stopped herself at the horror on Ed’s face. “But that’s just at first! Don’t worry! He’s actually a sweetheart once you get to know him.”

Then, the bell over the door rang and in walked a girl with red hair and a shiny green dress. Her smile faded as she laid eyes on Ed.

“He can’t wear that.”

* * *

 

Ivy and Ecco spent a half hour giggling at a nearby thrift store, picking out all sorts of black and silver clothes for Ed to try on. 

“You wanna look hot for you know who, don’t you?” Ecco winked, prompting Ed’s face to catch fire.

“Who?” Ivy asked, tone instantly conspiratorial. 

“Ozzie,” Ecco said, just as Ed hissed, “Nobody.”

Ivy giggled. “Pengy? God, I’m sorry, Ed.”

“Why?” Ed’s heartbeat was just a touch too fast for his liking, his tone too distraught.

“He’s a jerk.”

“He’s your brother.”

Ivy laughed again. “No, he isn’t! He just pretends he is so he can boss me around.”

Ecco whispered to Ed, loud enough for Ivy to hear, “They’re siblings in every way but blood.”

After a period of trying on clothes, Ecco and Ivy were finally satisfied by the sight of Ed in dark jeans, a black t-shirt, and a back jacket.

“Snazzy!” Ivy exclaimed with delight. “But we aren’t finished quite yet!”

Ivy’s apartment was close by, just a few blocks South of the convenience store. Her home was on the second floor of the building, a small dingy space, with plants filling every nook and cranny.

“She’s really into plants,” Ecco said redundantly.

Ivy sat Ed down on a stool in the bathroom. She then bent down over him to shove a pencil in his eye. Naturally, he flinched.

“Hey! Relax, I’m just prettying you up!” Ed then stood still so Ivy could draw on him. It only took a few minutes for her to approve of her work and stand up straight. “I just did some minor tweaks but Pengy might actually look at you now.”

Ecco slapped Ivy’s arm. “That’s mean! He can’t help it that he’s a dork.”

Ed reached for the glasses on the edge of the sink that Ivy had removed for the sake of applying makeup but Ivy brushed his hand away. “Keep them in your pocket just in case but you won’t need them.”

“I can’t exactly see without them.”

Ivy nodded. “Exactly.”

Ivy touched up her own makeup while Ecco changed out of her work smock and Ed looked away when they wrapped their arms around each other to kiss.

“Okay, okay, we can go now. Ozzie’s probably waiting.”

“No, he’s not,” Ivy admonished. “He’s probably well into the party by now.”

Ed followed them down the dark stairwell and into the cold night outside, the heavy metal door shutting behind him, not saying anything so as to hide the blush on his face.

They ended up on a bus, the weak white lights illuminating them just enough for them to see each other.

“Now don’t be scared, Eddie,” Ecco said, taking his hand. “Ivy and I will take good care of you.”

“We’ll make sure you’re safe,” Ivy added.

“Just don’t call the cops.”

“I have something to confess,” Ed said, sitting in the seat between them. They both looked at him curiously. “I’m underage. I can’t drink.”

They stared at him for a moment before breaking into laugher. “Psh! So are we!” Ecco howled. “That won’t be a problem at this place, trust me.”

“As long as you’re not a baby,” Ivy said. “But you’re older than me, right?”

“Nineteen,” Ed said softly.

“Less baby than us,” Ecco said. “We’re both eighteen.”

“Yes, but Pengy is twenty-one,” Ivy said. “You can ask Pengy to buy your alcohol for you. Just make sure to pay him back or he’ll be very salty.”

Then they both started cackling again and Ed sat still, staring at the ground, not understanding at all.

Ed expected a club with a big bouncer in front of it, holding a rope to let people in.

Instead, they were crossing a parking lot towards a rundown warehouse. As they approached, Ed started to grow terrified. This was a trick. There was no “underground scene”. This was a trap of some sort and Ed fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. Where were they leading him to? A human trafficking ring? Ed had read about those in the news. They were terrible. And all sorts of people got dragged into them. 

Ed was young, naive. He’d be an excellent target.

He started to hyperventilate as they reached a peeling door, which Ivy knocked on four times, slowly, and to a distinct rhythm. The door swung open and Ivy and Ecco led the way. Ed took a deep breath before following. 

They descended down a flight of dimly lit stairs, with grime on the rails and even a pair of someone’s underwear on one of the steps. Ed carefully stepped over it, and any and all spots of mysterious fluids until the tell-tale sound of blaring dance music was audible.

Down three flights of stairs and through a crowded tunnel filled with people making out, there was finally what could be deemed a club.

“They don’t card here,” Ivy shouted over the music. “So don’t worry about it.”

“Worry about what?” Ed tried to ask, but neither of the girls heard him. They proceeded through the hordes of dancing, sweating bodies and suddenly Ed felt fear collapse onto him again. Where were they? Why was everything so loud? Why couldn’t he see anything? 

He reached for the glasses in his pocket and put them on, but noticed almost no change. The lights were still flickering furiously, the colors a whirlwind kaleidoscope. He could barely keep up with Ecco and Ivy in the crowd. Luckily, Ecco seemed to notice, and she grabbed his hand with her cool one, gently dragging him closer to the center of the club.

When they finally stopped walking it was because they’d found the bar, located in the very center of the place. “There he is!” Ivy yelled. Ecco screamed with delight and ran to throw her arms around someone on one of the barstools. Ivy quickly did too and Ed awkwardly followed behind, watching them squeal happily as they clung to Ozzie.

“Ozzie, we were scared we wouldn’t be able to find you!” Ecco yelled, slightly more audible out of the midst of the crowd.

“Don’t call me that.” Ozzie warned, pulling out of the embrace. Ecco stepped back, bumping into Ed in the process, bringing Ozzie’s attention to him. Ed could feel his face heat under the gaze. 

He was beautiful in this light, the rainbow of colors shifting over his face. Ed swallowed.

“Hi,” he said. His hand twitched at his side yet again.  _ Just like you practiced on the bus _ . “I’m Edward. Nygma.”

“I know,” Ozzie said loudly. “You said that yesterday.” He then turned toward Ivy to say something Ed couldn’t make out. 

Ecco cleared her throat loudly and grabbed Ed’s hand. “Now, Ozzie, don’t be rude!” She then took Ozzie’s hand and pulled them toward each other. “Now shake hands. Edward, this is Oswald. Oswald, this is Edward.” She shook their hands for them and let go forcefully. Ed recoiled from the contact, his fingers burning from where they’d touched Oswald’s. Oswald simply put his own hand aggressively in his pocket. “Oswald, Ed is new to Gotham and just found a job today. We helped him get prettied up tonight. Eddie, Ozzie works for a mobster and he’s a nasty smoker.”

“Miss Mooney is  _ not  _ a mobster,” Oswald snapped. “Stop telling people that.”

“Everyone knows she’s part of the mafia,” Ivy said. “Literally everyone knows. I bet even Eddie knows.”

Ed did, in fact, know because suspicion of Fish Mooney’s crimes were all over the Gotham Gazette and he read the paper religiously. Despite this, he shrugged. He didn’t want Oswald to cast another glare at him.

“Do you want a drink?” Ecco asked him, already waving for the bartender. 

Ed’s mouth gaped open as he struggled to come up with an answer but he couldn’t think of any drink except beer and he didn’t exactly want that.

The bartender slid over, a bald man decked out in leather, and Ecco grabbed his arm to talk excitedly at him.

_ Everyone knows everybody and you know nobody. You’re nothing. Just get out of here while you can. Isn’t the air stifling? What are you doing, standing there, looking at everyone like a moron? Maybe he was right. You really are good for nothing, useless. Who could ever really-- _

“Eddie!” Ecco shouted into his face. Ed jumped in surprise. “I said I ordered for you. Is that okay?”

Ed nodded. 

“Talk to Ozzie,” she went on. “Or he’ll end up talking to Zsasz again and you’ll lose your chance.”

Did Ed ever have a chance?

Even now, dressed in this ridiculous outfit, with powder on his eyelids and his glasses back in his pocket, he didn’t stand to impress anyone, least of all Oswald, who was scrolling through his phone disinterestedly. 

Not even the club was good enough to keep his attention. How could Ed ever hope to impress him?

“Why does Ivy call you Pengy?” Ed asked. Oswald immediately looked up from his phone to glower at him.  _ Idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot idiot-- _

“Ivy!” 

Ivy and Ecco were both giggling and gripping each other’s arms at the bar. Ecco nudged Ed with a glass. “Down the hatch, Eddie!” Her eyes flew open wide. “Oooh, Ozzie, you’re gonna love this, but Ed is a treat at truth or dare. He only picks dare and he did everything I asked him to do. He ate so much nasty shit at the store, I swear to Jesus--He even ate a frozen burrito dipped in coffee and cherry slurpee!”

Oswald blanched and Ed’s stomach fell. This was his legacy now. Stuffing his gullet with inedible atrocities at Ecco’s behest, simply because he couldn’t fathom to answer any sort of question like “Why do you keep saying your own name wrong?” or “Why are you even here?”

“Ecco, you’re disgusting,” Oswald said, and Ed blinked confusedly. After all, he was the one who ate it. All Ecco did was provide the prompt. “How the hell did you come up with that?”

“That place is fucking sick. It’s all the inspiration I need.” Ecco turned back to Ed and pointed at his drink. “I said down the hatch! Slurp it down, pussy!”

Ed quickly obeyed, his face screwing up at the taste. He kept swallowing anyway until the glass was empty. He set the glass on the bar and looked up to see all three of them staring at him.

“Jeez, I was joking,” Ecco said.

“You’re gonna get super wasted,” Oswald added, a hint of a smile on his pretty mouth.

Ed would feel embarrassed if not for the smile. All he could do was grin in response. Maybe he could make him smile again. “That was pretty good,” he lied. “Can I have another?”

* * *

 

Ed took the next two drinks slower. At some point Ecco and Ivy dragged him to the dance floor and moved against each other obnoxiously. Ivy had attempted to pull Oswald with them but he had threatened her, so she let go with a pout.

Ed was not a particularly good dancer, his movements too stiff, so Ecco and Ivy took his hands and then each others, moving side to side to lead him into a rhythm. He resented the contact, because all three of them had sweaty hands and he couldn’t imagine the kind of bacteria that was spreading onto his skin from all the dirt in this club. However, it was also strangely grounding, like they wanted him to be safe in the flood of people. 

He couldn’t handle the strange feeling after a while, especially because he was starting to feel heavy, and when the melody shifted over, Ed excused himself to get another drink and refresh himself at the bar.

He wanted to play it cool, not let Oswald know that he couldn’t stop thinking about him, so he didn’t even glance at him as he sipped at his drink. It was sour and strong and tasted awful. It wasn’t refreshing at all and he only felt thirstier the more he drank. He’d probably seem rather uncool if he asked for a water bottle, right?

“Do you go out like this a lot?” Oswald asked.

“What?” He looked over to look at the man beside him even if it hurt his head to do it and he could feel his heartbeat in his eyeballs.

Oswald was looking at him with only a slight interest in his eyes, but Ed would take what he could get. “Did you go out like this before you came here?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Ed answered. 

Not at all. Ed liked libraries and long walks. He liked the arcade in town until they closed it. He liked his high school biology club and poking around inside of frog’s organs. 

He used to cut open dead birds at home too, just to see, but then his father had found the corpses and that practice was put to an end.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

_ I used to cut open dead animals for the sake of science and I have never had a drink before tonight and you’re beautiful. _

“I mean it’s not exactly my scene but--”

Oswald laughed. “Yeah, I figured. You’re not supposed to drink those that fast or you’ll get hammered in no time.”

Ed could already feel his movements becoming sluggish, his head growing heavy, his brain tingling. He also couldn’t keep a dopey smile off his face, or stop staring at Oswald’s bright green eyes.

Green was Ed’s favorite color.

“What?” Oswald shouted. 

“Did I say that out loud?” Ed asked, horrified.

“Yeah.” Oswald smiled a little, like a tiny mercy. “Mine’s purple.”

Ed wasn’t wearing purple, to his knowledge, and he had brown eyes, not dazzling violet, so he truly had nothing to offer. He could feel himself pout.

“Hey, don’t take it personally. Not all of us can like green. After all, some of us have taste.”

Ed laughed. For the first time in a long time, he was laughing, and he couldn’t stop. His vision was getting a little hazy and he slanted a bit on the bar stool. Oswald’s hand flew out to steady him and Ed recoiled from the burn.

“Whoa, sorry,” Oswald said.

Ed stared at the hand that had touched him and a whimper escaped his mouth. He slammed his fist to cover his stupid lips. He hadn’t meant to do that. But he was suddenly so cold…

“Yeah, you are wasted,” Oswald said, but he was smiling. “You should probably go home and sleep it off.”

“But we just got here,” Ed protested--no, that was also a whine.

“You’ve been here plenty,” Oswald countered. “Are Ecco and Ivy taking you home?”

Ed shrugged. His head was getting heavier and it was hard to blink away the spots in his vision.

“Victor!” Oswald shouted, and Ed’s heart flipped at the melody, even though it wasn’t his name. “Keep an eye on him, would you? I’m gonna get Ecco.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ed looked up to see the bald bartender grinning at him. 

“Scary,” Ed said. He covered his mouth. “Oops.”

“You’re drunk, dude,” Victor said. “Go home and sleep it off. In the morning, sleep more.” His grin never faltered and it was starting to bother Ed.

“I can’t,” he argued. “I have work tomorrow.”

“Then why’d you get plastered?”

Ed whined again. He kept doing that. He realized his cheek was pressed to the counter. Disgusting. His head was too heavy to lift off of it, though.

“You tired, Eddie?” Ecco said from behind him.

“No,” Ed said.

“It’s okay if you are. We were gonna go back and crash at Ivy’s anyway.”

“We?”

“Me and Ivy.”

“Oh.”

“You’re invited too!” Ivy said. Ed hadn’t even noticed her there, but if he tilted his head a bit off the counter he could see her behind Ecco.

“Will Oswald come?”

Ecco looked away. “No, honey, Ozzie’s staying here.” Ecco leaned into Ed’s space. “Come here, we’ll help you up. Just take my hand, okay?”

Ed did and when Ecco helped him to his feet, he chuckled. “I am repulsed by physical contact, did you know?” He laughed louder and squeezed Ecco’s hand.

He could hear Ivy thank someone behind him but his head was too heavy to turn. Ecco was gripping his hand and leading him past the crowd of dancers and people who were definitely doing  more than dancing. 

“But you keep touching me tonight. And I hated it a lot but I think I’m starting to not hate it.”

“Slow down there, puddin’,” Ecco said, when they were in the tunnel again. “I’m in a committed relationship.”

“You’re not my type, anyway,” Ed said and for some reason that was hilarious so he laughed again. It must have been funny to Ecco too, because she joined him. 

They walked up the stairs once Ivy caught up with them, the girls helping to drag Ed’s clumsy body up until they could collapse through the heavy door and into the freezing cold outside. It sobered him up somewhat, biting at his eyes.

The walk back was long and dizzying and Ed kept tilting over onto either Ivy or Ecco, who kept reassuring him that Ivy’s apartment was close and safe and warm. The bus was a nightmare, because it was hot and bright and nauseating.

He threw up right outside the door to the building when Ivy was fishing in her purse for her key. Ecco patted his back. “That’s it, Eddie. Just let it out. You’ll feel better.” He wiped his mouth against his better judgment and once he was upright, Ivy was holding the door open.

The quiet in Ivy’s apartment was blaring after the loud dance music in the club. It was wiggling in his eardrums and scratching at his brain. He stood by the door for a long while as he watched Ivy pull a sheet over the couch and fluff a pillow. 

“Sleep here tonight, Eddie,” she said. “Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Okay.”

He tucked himself in as Ecco and Ivy went into the bedroom.

“Good night,” they whispered and he whispered it back.

“He’s such a weird little guy,” he heard Ecco say before the bedroom door closed and he was alone in the dark.

Oswald Cobblepot was still at the club, probably talking to the creepy bald bartender. For some reason, Ed missed him.

His thoughts were green when he finally fell asleep.


	4. Promise Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So 5x11 broke me.... I'm soft so this chapter ended up being soft too. I'm sorry.
> 
> I changed this to Mature because... it would eventually get there anyway.

Ed woke to the sound of giggling and a hushed conversation. He opened his eyes cautiously and nearly sighed loudly in relief when he remembered that he was in Ivy’s apartment, on her couch. He wasn’t  _ there _ anymore and he never would be again.

_ I’ll never wake up there again _ , he thought to himself aggressively.  _ That time is dead _ .

There was bright light streaming through the windows, a comfortable yellow haze over the apartment; it was a significant change from the way it looked at night. He looked over at the coffee table, strewn with a variety of small succulents, and began to inwardly panic at the absence of his cell phone, the only thing of value he had in the whole world.

“Look who’s up,” Ecco said cheerfully. “Good morning, sleeping beauty!”

“You slept like a baby,” Ivy chirped. They were both sitting in the kitchen, at the table, mugs in hand. Ecco was wearing a baggy t-shirt and Ivy was donning flannel pajamas. “Hope you’re not too hungover.”

There was a vicious ringing in his ears and a dull pang in his skull but he could function. He had dealt with worse before. “Good morning,” he said, surprised to find his own voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Two in the afternoon,” Ecco sang, stretching her arms out wide and slumping in her chair. “Personally, I could go for a couple more hours of shut eye.”

“Or a day,” Ivy muttered, smirking into her mug.

Ed sat up, panicking much more fully. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear--”

“Yo, Eddie, wassup?” 

Ed jumped off the couch, and upon noticing his lack of pants, reddened immediately. He scanned the floor for his jeans and immediately started shoving his long legs into them, talking loudly so as to distract from the bruises there. “I have my first day of work today and I don’t even know when it’s supposed to be and now I can’t find my phone and what if I forgot it at the club? Oh, that would be the worst--I need it because all of my important information is on that thing, you know--I can’t live without it--”

“Kids these days,” Ivy sighed. “So reliant on technology. This is why I unplugged last year.”

Ecco snorted. “Yeah, like you’re not on your phone all the time on Change Dot Org.” She turned to address Ed. “Calm down, sweetie. One thing at a time, alright? How about we start with stop. Stop and calm down. Take a breath.” Ed stood still, inhaling deeply and then softly exhaling. “Great!” she cheered. “First things first. I have your phone on the counter. It was ringing all morning, getting texts from some weird number, and it was low so I plugged it in to charge. You and I have the same charger.”

Ed’s stomach flipped. “Texts? Are they from the library? Oh, dear…” He moved forward into the kitchen and heading straight for his phone, which was almost done charging at the outlet. He checked the texts and immediately recognized the number. “Oh, no.”

Well, it certainly wasn’t the library.

_ 7:15 a.m.: Where have you been? Your mother is worried sick.  _

_ 7:25 a.m.: Edward, you have to answer soon. _

_ 7:40 a.m.: I’m at work so I expect at least a text by the time I get on break. _

_ 11:23 a.m.: Edward. Call me. Now. _

_ 12:15 p.m.: Your mother and I are concerned. Please respond.  _

_ 12:35 p.m.: We will call the police if we have to. We will find you. If you aren’t being held hostage or dead in a ditch somewhere, you’ll wish you were. _

_ 1:28 p.m.: You’re getting on my nerves, Edward. _

And just as he was reading the messages, a new one flashed onto his screen:  _ You’re out of time. _

Ed cursed himself for being so stupid, rummaging through his contacts until he found the number haunting him. He hit “block number” and took a deep calming breath.

“The library?” Ivy asked, voice only mildly interested. 

“Yes,” Ed croaked. “They… uh…” He scrolled through his emails, trying to find one from Sarah Essen. Finally, one appeared.  _ Edward, it would be great if you could start your first shift next Monday. That way I could have Kristen properly show you the ropes-- _ “They aren’t having me start until Monday, so I’ll be fine for now.” He shut off his phone and turned back to his new friends--friends?--friends.

“Awesome!” Ecco exclaimed, jumping up from her seat to move to the coffee machine in a particularly shady corner of the kitchen. She poured some coffee into a green mug adorned with roses and slid it over to Ed. “You should drink this.” She pointed to her temple and nodded mysteriously. “Told you everything would be okay if you just take it all one thing at a time.”

Ed smiled to appease her and took a sip of the coffee, immediately recoiling at the bitterness of it.

“Yeah, Ivy buys shitty organic coffee from a high end place. It’s expensive but tastes like ass.”

Ivy slammed her mug down. “It’s not shitty! It’s incredibly high quality! Grade A coffee!”

Ecco raised her eyebrows to murmur, “Yeah and it tastes nasty.”

Ivy had cereal on the top of the fridge, all healthy varieties that had Ecco gagging. Ed ate it without complaint, just happy to have something substantial to eat instead of running on vending machine snacks like he had the previous day.

“Oh!” Ivy sat up straight in her chair suddenly, spoon flopping into her bowl and splashing her forearm with soy milk. “Pengy texted me about you!”

“He did?” Ed flushed, but shoveled another spoonful of cereal to mask it. 

“Yeah!” She pulled out her phone and scrolled. “He texted me at four a.m.: ‘Did the drunk moron get home OK?’” She placed her phone down and beamed. “I said ‘yeah’ and sent a thumbs up emoji and then some heart emojis. He still hasn’t responded.”

Ed swallowed. That was… something. Oswald had asked about him. He’d also called him a moron, but he’d  _ asked about him _ . That was something.

The afternoon was slow, with the three of them spending several hours doing nothing but talking about the previous night.

“We actually had more of a night planned but you were so wasted, we had to take you home.”

“Yeah,” Ecco said, hanging off her chair with a dopey grin on her face. “Don’t get me wrong, you were super cute, but tonight try to lay off the sauce as much. Take it slower. We can show you way more.”

They somehow moved their conversation to the couch and the TV turned on to a movie without Ed ever being conscious of how exactly it happened. He felt disgusting, unwashed and with sleep still in his eyes at 7pm, sitting on a couch still unmade, watching a film and eating greasy chips with two girls who were still in their pajamas. Despite the feeling, he didn’t mind it very much when he realized that he was just spending a lazy day with his friends. His friends.

It was ten at night when Ivy and Ecco got up to get ready, washing up and getting dressed for the night ahead. Ivy even let Ed take a shower to get off all the makeup and dumpster smell he had accumulated the past two days. He watched as Kristen’s magenta deodorant swirled around the shower floor and he could finally breathe again.

Ivy had some clothes for him. Oswald’s clothes. As soon as she mentioned the name, Ed took them and put them on. They smelled wonderful, like fresh linen, probably because they were freshly cleaned, but Ed inhaled and mused that maybe Oswald smelled like that all the time: fresh and clean.

When he emerged from the bathroom, hair wet and wearing clothes that were a little tight on him (he actually could not fit into the pants and decided to wear his jeans from last night), the couch was made up properly again and Oswald was sitting on it.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked when he saw Ed. 

Ivy sat down next to her brother and giggled. “Doesn’t it look nice on him?”

Oswald’s gaze lingered for only a moment before he said, “It looks small.”

Ed’s face got hot, red hot, like someone was holding brands to his skin. “Are you coming with us, Oswald?”

Ecco emerged from Ivy’s bedroom, wearing black tights and a red dress. “Actually, we’re coming with  _ him _ .”

Ed’s face turned hotter somehow. 

When everyone was ready, Ecco equipped with a heavy-looking duffel bag, they all followed Ivy out of the building, Ed making sure he was close by Oswald so he could inhale and see if he really smelled like fresh laundry. 

He smelled like musty cologne and cigarette smoke.

Ed decided he liked that just fine and wished the clothes that were squeezing the life out of his ribs smelled like their owner did.

They were out on the street again, the ground wet even though it hadn’t rained all day. Gotham was a wet and foggy place, despicable and grotesque. But Ivy and Ecco were giggling as they clung to each other and Oswald was lighting a cigarette with an irritated look on his face and Ed didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“We’re not going to a club or a party,” Oswald said, exhaling beautiful clouds of smoke. Ed watched the smoke float up and evaporate into the sky. “We can make our own.” Oswald pulled a plastic bag out of his jacket pocket. There were small white capsules in it, and he made a show of extracting one and placing it on his tongue. 

Ed’s stomach flipped.

“Are those drugs?” he asked, watching as Ivy and Ecco both stuck the round capsules into their mouths. 

“You don’t have to take any,” Oswald said. “We’ll have a good time anyway.” He was holding a capsule in between his fingers and waiting for a response. His fingers were beautiful, the nails cut short and covered in chipped black polish. 

“Okay,” Ed said, holding his mouth open and sticking his tongue out a little. Oswald chuckled and placed the capsule on his tongue. Ed only tasted the brush of Oswald’s index finger but it was divine. He couldn’t pay attention to the bitter of the drug because all he could taste was the salt of his skin.

“Suck on it,” Oswald advised, withdrawing his hand. “Now swallow.” Ed’s heart was racing already. He didn’t need to swallow or suck on anything. Being near Oswald already felt like an overdose. He did it anyway, just because he’d been told to.

Oswald turned away and started to walk--no,  _ limp _ … he was  _ limping _ \--down the street. He looked like a god.

For a long while they simply followed Oswald wherever he walked, across streets and parks and puddles. Ed lost track of how much time passed. Ecco held his hand for one moment, Ivy holding it the next. He fantasized about Oswald taking it after, but of course he did no such thing. Ed had stepped into a deep puddle at some point and his shoe emerged soaking wet and freezing. Oswald laughed, though, so Ed didn’t care that it was uncomfortable for the rest of the walk. 

They took a break from their walk at a bodega, where Oswald was buying candy and water. Ed and the girls stayed outside. Ecco and Ivy were kissing languidly, smiling, while Ed watched Oswald through the window.

Oswald left the store with his plastic bag and continued walking without a word, Ecco and Ivy reluctantly pulling away from each other to follow. Ed wanted to speed up a little, so he did, catching up to Oswald, who still had a cigarette between his lips. 

Ed wanted to talk to him, to ask him why he liked purple so much, why he liked bald bartenders, if he liked geeky guys who worked at libraries and wore sweaters, what effects the drug was supposed to have. He didn’t speak, though. He just watched his limp and the small fire of the cigarette.

Oswald led them through the backdoor of a tall, grey building. They were in the elevator, trying to keep quiet. Ecco and Ivy were whispering to each other and Ed was looking at Oswald, who was staring at the ground. He’d stamped out his cigarette before entering the building but he still smelled like cancer.

A god of death, Ed mused.

“Is it kicking in?” Oswald asked. 

“What?”

“You’re smiling.” Ed touched at his lips. He hadn’t noticed. “Are you starting to feel it?”

“How can I tell?” Ed asked.

A chuckle, an angelic sound. “Trust me, you’ll know when you feel it.”

They got out on the fifteenth floor and Oswald led them down the hall. The carpet was stained with bleach and many of the lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling were out. At the end of the hall, there was a heavy door and Oswald pushed it open and led them to a staircase. He locked the door behind them. He was fast despite his limp, climbing to the roof with no apparent issue. 

The air was colder on the roof, sixteen stories off the ground. 

Ecco ran and crawled onto the ledge, balancing on it expertly and singing what sounded like a pop love song to her girlfriend. Ivy blushed and squealed out protests. “You’re embarrassing yourself!” she shrieked, but when Ecco jumped down into her arms, she gave her a passionate kiss anyway.

Oswald elbowed Ed. “Be useful. Help me with these blankets.”

Ed turned to fully pay attention to what Oswald wanted, even though it was hard. Oswald looked more and more like he was glowing and all he wanted was to lean in and get a better taste of him.

He didn’t.

Oswald shoved a heap of blankets into his arms. “We’re making a giant pillow,” he said with a grin and Ed bit his lip trying to contain his returning smile.

Together, Ed and Oswald laid out blanket over blanket over blanket onto the roof, until there was a very comfortable pseudo-mattress on the cement. Oswald was the first to lie down, lighting another cigarette as he reclined. Ecco and Ivy crowded onto the other side of him, sitting so close they were basically in each other’s laps. Ed had no choice but to sit on Oswald’s other side, not that he was complaining. 

Ecco played some music on her phone’s tinny speakers, some energetic dance music, much like the blaring rhythms that had played in the club last night.

They sat in comfortable silence for a long while, staring at Gotham’s bright skyline which more than made up for the startling lack of stars above them. From this height, the city wasn’t just a barren wasteland of litter and fog, it was bright and gleaming and Oswald’s side was  _ warm  _ and Ed almost tore his cheeks with how wide his smile was.

“I know!” Ecco exclaimed, turning in Ivy’s lap to face them. “Let’s play a game to all get to know each other.” Ed knew that they all knew each other well already. Ecco was just trying to include him, and it made his eyes sting. “Let’s play Never Have I Ever.”

Ivy threw Ecco off her lap and ran to the duffle bag. “I have raspberry vodka!” she exclaimed, rejoining the group and sitting cross legged next to her now-grumpy girlfriend. “Do you know the rules, Ed?” 

Ed eyed the red bottle in her hand and shook his head. 

“It’s simple,” Ecco said, hugging her knees. “You say something you’ve never done and everyone who  _ has  _ done it takes a drink.”

“How do you win?” Ed asked.

Oswald snorted and sat up, dragging his cigarette out of his mouth. “Trust me, you don’t wanna win this game.”

“Just try to have fun!” Ivy said, uncapping the bottle. “Ecco, go first and show Eddie how it works.”

Ecco hummed with her finger on her chin before she gasped and leaned in conspiratorially. “Never have I ever sucked a dick!”

Ivy pushed the bottle away from herself. “I haven’t either.”

“This is homophobia,” Oswald said, taking the bottle. Ed blushed and tried not to imagine who who who who who who--

“Okay, Ozzie, why don’t you go, then?”

“Do it for the gays,” Ivy added.

“Never have I ever gone down on a girl,” he said, voice bitter. “Drink up, now.”

Ivy took a swig and handed the bottle to her girlfriend. “You’re not playing fair, Pengy.”

Ecco took her drink and offered to Ed. “Have you, Eddie?”

Ed shook his head, avoiding meeting her gaze or looking at the mouth of the vodka bottle.

“That’s okay. Here, how about you go?”

Ed bit his lip and stared resolutely at the fabric of his jeans. “Never have I ever kissed someone.”

“Are you kidding me?” Oswald exhaled, grabbing the bottle.

“Oh, no, Eddie!” Ecco cried. “We have to find someone to smooch you!”

“Someone say something Ed has done, please,” Oswald said, handing the bottle to Ivy. Ed’s heart clenched at the sound of him saying his name.  _ Music, melody, rhyme. _

Ivy passed the bottle to Ecco. “Never have I ever had to wear glasses.”

Ed giggled when Ecco excitedly pressed the vodka into his hands. “Drink! Drink!” The vodka was sweet but Ed immediately felt a throb at the front of his brain, like someone was applying donut glaze to it. 

He wondered if it was a bad idea to drink after taking a mystery drug.

No, it was undoubtedly a bad idea. But Oswald seemed to know what he was doing. Oswald was smart and clever and he radiated power, confidence, charisma,  _ everything _ . Oswald wouldn’t wanna hurt Ecco or Ivy, so Ed was safe by proxy.

They went through a few rounds and Ed ended up giggling a lot, especially when Oswald accidentally brushed against his arm with his elbow. 

“Never have I ever killed an animal,” Ivy said, voice light from the alcohol. She shoved the bottle into Oswald’s hand. 

“That’s a bitch move,” he spat. “I only did it because you and Cat refused to.”

Ivy turned to Ed to explain. “There was this dog one night and he got run over by a car. He was on the street and he kept whining. We kinda begged Oswald to put him out of his misery because me and Cat couldn’t.”

“How long ago was that?” Ecco asked.

“Maybe five years ago?” Ivy guessed, reaching to take the bottle back. Ed grabbed it before she could and took a drink, maybe more gulps than necessary. He didn’t want to explain this.

Instead, he focused on how Oswald’s lips had wrapped around where Ed’s mouth currently was. They were kissing across time, somehow. It tasted sweeter than anything.

“An animal killer,” Ivy said, voice going low. “I’m scared, Eddie.”

“Are you a future serial killer, Eddie?” Ecco teased.

Ed placed the bottle in the middle of the blanket pile, balancing it so it didn’t tip over. 

“No… I’m normal,” he said.

“Said no normal person ever,” Oswald chided, exhaling smoke. “Was it a mercy killing?”

Ed didn’t know how to answer that. To say “no” would be honest. “It was an accident,” he said, because, even though it was incomplete, it was the truth, even if it wasn’t as noble as Oswald’s truth.

“That’s okay, Eddie,” Ecco said.

They continued playing until even Ed was starting to see stars behind the colors dancing on the skyline. Ed thought Ecco was onto something about this being a good way to get to know each other. 

Oswald started smoking when he was sixteen.

Ivy went on her first date with a boy who tried to kiss her at the end of it, scaring her into kneeing him between the legs.

Ecco hadn’t slept in her own bed in a week.

Ed was weird. He hadn’t confessed the worst of it: the birds and the frogs and the knives he’d left behind in his old bedroom. But he had confessed his inexperience, his inability to properly communicate with people, his propensity for riddles and trivia.

Even to these people, he was weird. But they didn’t seem to mind much because they were weird too. 

Eventually, Ecco and Ivy were off the blankets, making a show of waltzing across the roof to a Taylor Swift song. When the song ended, Ivy dipped Ecco too low and they both crashed to the ground, cackling as they did so, Ecco rubbing the back of her head.

They cuddled up close to each other on the blankets and before long Ed looked over to see that they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

“They’re sleeping,” Ed whispered. Oswald raised an eyebrow and extinguished his cigarette on the ground beside him. He leaned back to continue lying on the blankets.

Ed followed suit, trying to be unassuming when he pressed his arm flush against Oswald’s.

“It’s beautiful,” Oswald said softly and Ed blinked in surprise. 

“Yes, it is,” he said, eyes looking over the profile of the man beside him.

“Gotham is the most beautiful place on earth,” Oswald continued. “I could die here, looking at it like this.”

“It’s really… foggy,” Ed added, trying to chime in with something useful.

Oswald furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and turned to look at Ed. When he started laughing, Ed did too, leaning his forehead against Oswald’s shoulder.  _ Warm, warm, warm _ .

“Ecco told me you just moved here.”

Ed nodded, refusing to move his face from where it was smooshed against Oswald’s shoulder. 

“Why did you come here?”

Ed closed his eyes and somehow there were more colors behind his eyelids than when they were open. His heart was racing and his stomach was flipping and he couldn’t feel his fingers. 

“I used to live somewhere else,” he said, blindly tracing shapes into Oswald’s sleeve with his finger. “A really nice neighborhood with big houses. My parents have very good, high paying jobs. I don’t care much for that. You see, money is inconsequential. We could have none of it and my life would have probably been the same. They wouldn’t have liked me any better or any worse.” He giggled and his wandering finger stopped exploring so that he could wrap his hand around Oswald’s arm. “I didn’t like it there so I came here. Gotham is different and new and I’m different and new. I figured maybe we’d be perfect for each other.”

Oswald was quiet for a very long time. He didn’t flinch away from Ed’s touch, so Ed nuzzled his face closer into the warmth of his shoulder. When Oswald finally spoke, it was in a soft voice. “You’re running away?”

“The escape has already occurred,” Ed said, voice muffled from his mouth being pressed against the black fabric of Oswald’s hoodie. “Now I’m just trying to live again.”

“You’re a weird kid,” Oswald said, huffing out a laugh.

Ed hated the sound of that, like Oswald thought of him as something smaller than him, something not on his level. He wanted to be a bald bartender in that moment, have Oswald flirt with him and kiss him and take him home and  _ not call him “kid” _ .

“I’m not a kid,” Ed protested, gripping tighter onto his arm. “I’m nineteen.”

Oswald laughed again. Ed could feel the trembling of it in his fingers. “Okay. If you say so.”

Ed fell asleep with his face buried into Oswald’s hoodie. 

Oswald’s steady breathing was the most soothing lullaby he’d ever heard.


	5. Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss Nygmobblepot. :(  
> Thank you to everyone who leaves me comments. I owe you my entire life! I'll reply to them all as soon as I'm not feeling so lazy. <3

Ed had fallen asleep on a cold rooftop feeling warmer than he’d ever been before.

He woke up with the sun glaring in his eyes and all the warmth gone.

Ecco and Ivy were whispering on the blankets as they sucked on lollipops. Ivy uttered a sweet word and Ecco leaned in to kiss her cheek. They looked unkempt and wild like this, hair flying in the wind.

Oswald was gone. 

“Where did he go?” Ed asked, not meaning to sound so distraught.

“Oswald?” Ivy asked just as Ecco exclaimed, “Good morning, Eddie!”

Ivy mussed up Ed’s hair. “He had to go to work, silly.”

“Did you see when he left?” Ed asked. He didn’t want to be desperate but his heart was beating heavy in his chest and for some reason he just wanted to know if Oswald let him hold his arm the whole night. God knows Ed would’ve, if he’d been allowed.

“Nah, he was gone when we woke up,” Ecco said, licking her bright red lollipop.

Ivy removed her green lollipop from her mouth and turned to fully face Ed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Ed. I’m saying this as a friend.” He waited for her to continue, sitting up to pay proper attention. “I think it’s really cute that you like Pengy so much but it’s probably a good idea to cut it off right here.”

“What--”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Ivy said sternly. “I think you’re really sweet and cute but Oswald doesn’t really… do that. You’re just gonna get hurt.”

Ecco smiled widely. “You two were so cute last night, though. I’d be proud of myself for that much at least.”

Ed tried to fathom doing as Ivy asked. If he closed his eyes, he could see the tiny knives and scalpels he stored in a small box in his desk drawer in his old bedroom. The box was wooden and unassuming but maybe Ed could open it and hold one of the sharper knives over his exposed heart and cut away the piece that hammered whenever Oswald spoke his name. He could see the bloody sliver fall to the ground and burn in the sunlight as if he’d dropped acid on it.

It was an evil sliver, that was for sure.

But he found it comforting, too.

He had felt safe last night, curled up against the body of the most incredible person he’d ever met. 

He shut the wooden box and left his bedroom. Oswald had asked him if he was running away. Not any longer. That part of his life was done and over. He would not run away anymore. 

He removed his glasses from his face and cleaned them lazily on his jeans, refusing to taint the uncomfortable shirt that pinched at his skin.

“Thank you,” he said, replacing the glasses over his nose. “For worrying about me. Nobody has ever done that before.”

Ivy’s face collapsed into one of affection and sadness. “Oh, Eddie, of course we worry. You’re cute and innocent and I’d hate if you ever got hurt.”

Ecco leaned over and wrapped her arms around Ed’s shoulders. “We’re your friends, Eddie. We’re here for you.” Ed’s eyes watered with tears as he slowly returned the hug.  _ A hug. Friends. _

Ecco pulled away after a long moment, pinching one of his cheeks as she did so. Ivy held up a bag full of lollipops.

“Here’s breakfast. What flavor do you want? There’s green apple, cherry, lemon, orange, grape, and blue raspberry.”

“I’ll have the grape one, thank you.”

* * *

 

Ivy had to leave to go study, so Ecco came up with a day plan for herself and Ed. She had work at seven and asked sweetly if Ed would accompany her so she wouldn’t be so bored. He agreed, naturally, particularly pliant after the hug.

“Excellent! In the meantime, we’re gonna go shopping!” 

They stopped at a thrift store and Ecco helped Ed make a few tough choices. Argyle or plain brown? Argyle. Light jeans or dark? Dark. Tartan or houndstooth? Both.

She paid for his clothes, whispering that he’d pay her back once he started earning money.

They stopped for lunch at a greasy diner, the plastic bags full of clothes sitting between Ed and the wall in their booth. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Ecco said after they’d taken their orders. “Please don’t freak out.”

Ed was getting exhausted with all of these serious talks. “Go on,” he said anyway.

“You’re new here and you only just got a job and you didn’t have any clothes so I’ve suspected… Are you homeless, Eddie?”

Ed didn’t want to talk about this, just like he didn’t want to talk about  _ before _ or the birds or his knives or his former classmates or how he’d cried in the alley after getting his job--he just wanted to pretend like his biggest concern was whether or not Oswald had mentioned him in conversation. He wanted that to be his whole world. 

“I’m… in between homes right now,” he answered.

Ecco nodded. “Do you wanna crash at mine? I have an extra bedroom and it’s closer to the library than Ivy’s place. You can even help with rent once you start getting paid. It’ll be really casual though. You know I’ve always wanted a roommate.”

Ed hesitated. He barely knew Ecco. But worse than that, Ecco barely knew  _ him _ . He was just a stranger. Someone who’d walked into her store a few days ago and refused to leave. She didn’t know about the  _ birds _ , for Pete’s sake--

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked. He started playing with the ketchup bottle on the wooden table. “I could be dangerous. I could be a freak. A psycho.”

His father’s face was red when he found out about the birds and the knives. He’d made Ed throw the corpses into the street in front of all their neighbors.

_ That kid’s a psycho _ .

All he’d wanted to know was  _ why  _ and  _ how _ and feel at the tiny braids of veins emerging from the small, still hearts--scientific curiosity at its most basic and primal--

_ A fucking psychopath. _

_ A freak _ .

The whole street knew and then the whole neighborhood knew and everyone at school knew that Edward was weird and that he liked to cut up animals and toy with their organs and--

“Yeah, okay,” Ecco snorted. “I promise I’m way more of a freak than you. I kind of have a thing for clowns. It might scare you. Fair warning.”

“Clowns?” Ed asked. Ecco reached across the table to squeeze Ed’s nose.

“Honk,” she said softly. “I like that creepy carnival thing. If you’re into horror, my apartment is the place to be. It’s a total mess and it looks like a Halloween store, but if you’re half as much a freak as me then you might like it.”

Part of Ed wanted to protest--clowns and cutting up dead animals were not on the same level at all--but the much stronger part of him, the part that was beating loudly in his chest, pulled at the sides of his mouth until he was grinning and nodding. “Yeah. Yes. I’d love to be your roommate, Ecco.”

“I reserve the right to kick you out if you do cross a line, though,” Ecco said, putting a Converse-clad foot on the table. “Like if you don’t shut up about Ozzie, or something gay like that.”

She winked at him when he flushed.

She retracted her foot off the table at the waiter’s return and his disapproving look. 

“You can like him all you want,” she said once the waiter had huffed away. “It might do you some good to have an impossible crush.”

“Impossible?” Ed said, eating a french fry.

“Well, no offense, darling, but Ivy was right. He doesn’t date.” Ecco took a bite of her burger before wiping off her chin. “Yeah, he’s kind of a cynic. I’ve known him for a couple years now and he’s always been annoying as hell about it. But I know his mom really wants him to start dating. Oh! Ozzie’s mom! She’s kinda scary but such a good time. You should meet her.”

Ed didn’t know what thought to focus on: that Oswald refused to date for whatever reason or that Ecco thought it was a good idea he meet his crush’s mother.

No. Not crush.

Ed wouldn’t stamp his heart out but he would stop it from swelling. Better to stop the bleeding than to pretend there wasn’t a cut.

“But I get the feeling that he thinks you’re cute.” Ecco chewed at her burger with a small smile on her face. “So if you’re okay with not dating him, you might at least get something from him.”

Ed’s face heated up at the implication of Ecco’s words. As intriguing as the concept was…

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I just think he’s interesting.”

Ecco laughed. “That’s what he wants people to think.”

* * *

 

In no time at all, it was seven.

Ecco and Ed had stopped by her apartment to drop off the clothes and for Ecco to change into her work smock. It had given Ed a chance to see that she had been right. There were tiny clown dolls sitting on the shelves, posters of killer clowns on the walls, carnival stripes on the blankets. Only one plant could be seen in the whole place: a small cactus with a pink bud sitting on the window sill.

Ed lingered in the living room, waiting for Ecco to change, eyeing the red and white and black and  _ clowns _ . It was a bit terrifying, seeing the circus paint and red noses and sharp teeth and dripping blood. Ed didn’t understand the appeal, but nobody had understood the appeal in opening up dead animals either, so he wasn’t in a place to judge.

When they left for Ecco’s work, they were hand in hand. They walked like that the whole way to the store, playing “would you rather” at Ecco’s behest.

It was enjoyable, sitting cross-legged on the counter with Ecco and playing “Go Fish” with a worn pack of cards. Ed couldn’t remember ever being so close with someone, having someone laugh at his jokes. He even attempted a riddle and she guessed, albeit incorrectly.

“Have any fives?” Ecco asked, chewing at a custard-filled donut.

“Go fish,” Ed answered. The bell over the door rang. Neither of them looked up but Ecco welcomed the visitor in monotone anyway.

“A pack of Pall Malls and a pack of Marlboros,” Oswald’s voice said. 

Ed jumped, whipping around to look at him.

He was wearing a black suit with a bowtie and he looked  _ divine. _ God of death… Beautiful enough to worship…

Ed couldn’t breathe.

“Fish is smoking again? I thought she quit.” Ecco hopped off the counter to fetch the cigarettes.

“It’s for a client. And for me.” Oswald had his money ready in his hand. He turned a little bit, his green eyes bright. “Hi, Ed.” 

Ed felt his breathe shakily emerge from him. “Hello, Oswald.” He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe--

Oswald smiled and Ed was suddenly breathing too much.

“Did you like the party last night? It wasn’t too much, right?”

Ed shook his head. “It was perfect.”

Ecco handed Oswald the two packs and took the money from his hand, giving back a few pennies as change. 

“Keep it,” Oswald said. “Who needs pennies?” He turned to the door, then. “See you later.”

And then he was gone and Ed wanted to cry.

“Shh, Ed,” Ecco soothed. “You’re hyperventilating.”

Ed looked down at his cards and tried to read the numbers on the sides. 

Maybe he couldn’t stop this wound from bleeding.


	6. Goodnight

Ed had experienced sleep for five nights in Gotham now.

The first two had been somewhat restless, the dreams cloudy and hazy.

The third had been a sweet sleep. There hadn’t been any dreams, just a soft and rosy abyss.

The fourth had been startling. His dreams bled red and his father’s loud yelling reverberated around the edges of each one.

The fifth was… different.

Oswald was wearing a suit, like he had at the store. He was smoking and smiling and Ed’s heart had hammered.

It wasn’t a vivid dream. One second Ed was standing across the fog from Oswald and the next he had somehow ended up in his lap.

They kissed once, maybe twice, but it didn’t feel like anything. Ed knew then for sure that he was in a dream. A kiss with Oswald would have felt like everything. He didn’t believe in a heaven, but kissing Oswald would be the closest thing.

How green it was to imagine others had experienced heaven on earth and taken it for granted!

“I would give you everything,” Ed confessed softly. “I want you to have everything.”

Oswald laughed again, like he had that night on the roof. Ed felt that, the echo of it had never left him and had been pressed desperately into his bones so he wouldn’t--couldn’t--forget.

“You’re a weird kid,” Oswald said and Ed grabbed Oswald’s face so he could kiss him harder and make him take it back.

“Want me back, please,” he begged against his lips, but Oswald didn’t kiss back. He just laughed.

And Ed woke up with a headache in Ecco’s second bedroom, feeling angry and ashamed all at once.

That _stupid_ suit had ruined everything, hadn’t it?

 _It was already ruined. You were already damned. He made you believe in gods again_.

Oswald was the only person he wanted to touch. He hadn’t even noticed until now how he had acted--so despicable--the night with the drugs and the rooftop. He’d let Oswald put his fingers near his mouth- _-unsanitary!-_ -and had clung to him tight and slept with his face against a hoodie that might not have been clean-- _unhygienic!-_ -and he didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. He wanted more and more and all of it if Oswald wanted to give it to him.

But why would Oswald want him?

A nobody. Certainly not anything compared to someone who carried himself like a king and seemed omniscient at times.

Ed pressed a pillow over his face and tried to think of anything else.

He started by counting pi.

Three point one four one five nine two six five three five… five… the fifth dream…

Bones then.

Phalanges, carpals, metacarpals, ulna, radius, humerus… humerus… the bone beneath the meat and skin and hoodie that Ed had held…

He tried to recite the periodic table but he got to oxygen quickly and then could not stop thinking about his idiotic hyperventilation at the sight of Oswald in a suit.

He sat up angrily and pulled his phone off the bedside table where it had been charging it the wall. He scrolled through his emails and fumed a bit.

How a few pieces of fabric could rile Ed up like this was _beyond_ him--

\-- _If you could come in at 8:30, that would be great_ \--

The time was 7:42.

Dammit.

Ed jumped out of bed and pulled on some of the new clothes Ecco had bought for him. She had also bought him some toiletries the day after when he awkwardly confessed that he hadn’t brushed his teeth in a couple days and had been surviving on breath mints.

He had kept forgetting about it, honestly.

But he didn’t forget it now, and he rushed to brush his teeth while rummaging around Ecco’s kitchen for something to eat, something she probably wouldn’t miss or that he could easily replace. He found a box of chewy peanut butter breakfast bars and shrugged, reading the nutritional facts while walking back to the bathroom. He rinsed out his mouth and decided the bars had very little nutritional value but would do for now.

He wasn’t in the place to be picky.

He was out the door in a few minutes, racing to the nearest bus stop and tracking his route on his phone GPS.

He arrived to his first shift at the library five minutes late. He apologized profusely, sweating and swearing he would never do it again. Sarah Essen smiled and gestured placatingly.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Stay with Kristen here. She’ll show you the ropes. Pay attention and your time here will be pretty easy-going.” With that, she left, giving the library a weary once-over before disappearing behind a corner.

Kristen was at the front counter, checking out a man’s books. Ed waited patiently a few steps away from where she was situated. Once she was done, he took a step forward and she whipped around.

“First off, don’t stand so close, please,” she said firmly and Ed took two steps back. “Thank you.” She exhaled and then she composed herself. “This work is pretty easy. Familiarize yourself with the sorting and that’ll be half the work down already. Eventually you’ll have most of the big titles memorized. Try to keep track of when we get hot trending books coming in. Naturally, we archive all the books in the computers, but it comes in handy to know about a few of the bigger authors off the top of your head. We have plenty of Stephen Kings and James Pattersons and Sophie Kinsellas so try to keep track.” Ed nodded, already making mental notes.

“Another thing you’ll wanna remember is that you have to be nice to everyone. But this is a library, so don’t be afraid to hush people. Be friendly and inviting, but firm, and you’ll be golden.” She turned to the computer and the scanning mechanism on the desk. “I’ll teach you how to check books out now and then we can run through the archive system and maybe start with the shelves.”

Kristen was very helpful and full of information. She genuinely loved the library, that much was apparent. She had worked there for two years and was friends with the regulars. She had given this tutorial to new employees before.

She had just finished taking him for a tour of the library when she turned and asked gently, “Any questions?”

“Just one!” he said, smiling. “What building has the most stories?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What?”

“It’s a library!” he exclaimed, rocking on the balls of his feet. “A library has the most stories, because it’s filled with books. I thought you might like that.”

She smiled softly. “Okay, that’s pretty funny. If you don’t have any questions, then try to get to work, okay?”

Ed nodded, already feeling more confident about the job. One of his coworkers was already acting like a friend and he had already familiarized himself with the sorting system. This would be fun.

He worked for the rest of his shift, shorter than it would be in the future. He helped a few old women find their romance novels and located a textbook for a high schooler. By the end of his shift he’d checked out a total of thirty-one books and one DVD.

He checked in with his boss at the end of the day and couldn’t help but gush about his work. “I admire the system a lot. The way you’ve organized the genres is very sensible and easy to maneuver. I just can’t help but feel like maybe the romance section shouldn’t be labeled 'chick lit', if only because that genre is not gender-exclusive--” He went silent at Essen’s tight smile.

“Ed, you did good today. I watched your progress and you’ve had a great start.” She sighed and looked at him earnestly. Ed gulped. He’d probably gone too far with the romance thing. She could probably tell he was something of a fan of the genre himself, though he would probably have said something even if he wasn’t--probably-- “I appreciate you saying something about the ‘chick lit’ sign.” She snorted. “I’m not the biggest fan of it either. As a ‘chick’, I’ve always been more of a fan of crime, myself. If you want, I can put a request through to have it changed. How’s that?”

“That would be wonderful, ma’am, thank you.”

She smiled again. She had a tendency, Ed noticed, to look the most exhausted when she was smiling. “Now get home, Ed. Have a nice rest of your day.”

“Okay. Thank you. Good bye. You too.” He beamed and backed out of her office until he was outside and closing the door behind him.

“Ed!” Kristen was waving him over to the counter. He hurried over to her and she spoke quietly. “I’m going out with a couple of my friends after work and I was wondering if you’d like to tag along?”

It was three in the afternoon and Kristen was a nice girl. Ed tried to formulate a pros and cons list in his head and when the pros (making friends, perfecting his social skills, giving Ecco room to breathe) outweighed the cons (new people, possible human trafficking), he nodded. “Sure. Sure, that could be fun.”

Kristen grinned. “I’m off in thirty.”

* * *

 

Ed and Kristen took the bus to midtown, as Kristen said, because there was a nice Irish pub there.

The inside was warm and cozy, a dim orange light illuminating the place just enough to see the people at your table. Ed followed his coworker through the crowded restaurant until they met the large corner booth.

Ed smiled his friendliest smile, trying to conjure the memory of Oswald’s laugh to make it seem genuine.

There were several people already in the booth, drinking a variety of beverages and splitting several baskets of french fries.

“Hey, guys,” Kristen greeted. She gestured to Ed. “This is my coworker Ed. He just started working at the library.”

“Dork,” snorted a blonde girl.

Kristen shot her a look and the girl held up her hands in insincere surrender.

“Anyway, Ed, these are my friends: Lee, Jim, Lucius, and Barbara.” Kristen’s friends all waved at Ed.

“Take a seat,” the brunette Kristen had introduced as Lee said.

Kristen sat at one end, next to Lee, and Ed nervously took the seat at the other end, next to the blonde who he now knew was named Barbara.

At first, Ed twiddled his fingers as he observed the conversation at the table, eyes flitting from Jim to Barbara to Lucius to Jim to Barbara to Lee to Kristen--it was hard to follow the cues and digressions, the inside jokes and jabs.

Thus he stayed silent.

He found himself losing focus on the words and suddenly he was on the rooftop next to Oswald again. He missed his smell. He regretted it fiercely that Oswald’s shirt was too tight for him, or he would gladly wear it everyday.

“Ed!”

Ed blinked back to the table, wistful to leave the god of hoodies and black nail polish yet again. “Yes.”

Kristen looked at him expectantly. “Lucius just asked you something.”

Ed turned to Lucius, who was sitting in the middle of the booth, gripping a pink beverage in his hand. Ed himself could only order water, since this place carded. It was funny how illegal most of his experiences in Gotham had been so far; he’d actually been surprised by the waiter asking for Kristen’s ID.

“Sorry… I must have zoned out,” Ed said. “What was the question?”

“Well,” Lucius started, and suddenly Ed knew that he was going to ask something just to drag him into the conversation. “How did your first day go? At the library?”

It had only been about an hour ago but Ed could hardly remember. Some other things took priority in his memory. Like the way Oswald looked in a suit…

Ed tried to compose his face, keep it from heating up. “Uh. It was alright. Very exciting. Not too much. But enough. One woman checked out four erotic novels and a self-help book about repairing broken marriages. I thought that was interesting. I asked her about it and she swore at me. I suppose that makes sense but at the time I was surprised. Which reminds me, the Gotham Public Library has all the romance and erotica novels categorized under ‘chick lit’, which peeved me. I did talk to Essen about it, to have it changed. She said she’d look into it, which is good because it ought to be changed to something more accurate. I mean, the crime novels aren’t labelled under ‘felon lit’, are they? No. That would be absurd--”

“Whoa,” Lucius said, breathing out a laugh. “Big day, then?”

It had not been.

Ed had probably erred somehow.

Barbara giggled, almost mockingly. “You ever heard of verbal diarrhea? You got a bad case of it.”

“Babs,” Lee warned.

Barbara put her hand on Ed’s shoulder and kept it there. Ed tensed. Good to know that Ed was okay with Oswald sticking his fingers in his mouth but he couldn’t put up with a light touch through several layers of clothing. He was getting more ridiculous by the minute.

“Eddie here is fine, aren’t you, hon?” Barbara didn’t wait for an answer, withdrawing her hand and leaning close to the table. “Speaking of _felons_ , did you all hear that Fish Mooney is throwing a party at her club?”

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you want to actually go,” Jim said, leaning in his seat.

Lee tsked. “Hey, there’s no actual evidence that Fish Mooney is a mobster. That’s all gossip and rumors. She’s a very successful businesswoman. I wouldn’t be surprised if people were trying to discredit her achievements.”

Kristen chimed in, “That does sound like realistic but this is Gotham. It seems like everyone’s doing things under the table.”

“Not me,” Jim said proudly, shoving a french fry in his mouth.

“Yup,” Barbara cooed. “Saint Jim here to teach us how to be proper citizens, right?”

Kristen turned to Ed to explain: “Jim’s at the Police Academy.”

Ed finally decided to speak up, just so he could say he had tried. “My friend’s brother works for Fish Mooney.”

_My friend’s brother? What a weird way to introduce a king. A god._

“You?” Barbara said, finally turning to him and raising a perfect eyebrow. “You finally got interesting. Can you swing an invite?”

Ed probably could. He could ask Ecco and Ivy if they’d heard of the event and maybe Ivy could coax Oswald into inviting Ed as well. “Maybe.”

“Who’s your friend’s brother?” Jim asked and suddenly Ed wished he hadn’t said anything.

“His name is Oswald.”

“Oswald? As in _Cobblepot_?” Barbara’s mouth was ajar and Ed knew he’d made a mistake.

Ed didn’t know what his last name was. Cobblepot was nice, though… Ed tried to suffocate the thoughts of somehow sticking that name onto the end of his own, squeezing it in so it belonged to the both of them.

“Black hair, thinks he’s tough shit?”

Ed held back a protest about how he _was_ just as tough as he thought he was. He nodded instead.

“Oh, kid, you keep getting more and more interesting,” Barbara leaned in. “Please spill all the tea you can.”

“I didn’t know Cobblepot had any siblings,” Jim said skeptically. Did he think Ed was lying, or something? Ed wouldn’t even know how to come up with this.

“They’re not really related,” he explained.

“Do you know him?” Babs asked, almost turned completely in her seat. “Does he talk about Fish? Please tell me he told you something.”

Why was this so interesting?

Granted, Ed was also obsessed with knowing everything about Oswald, but an angry fire raged in his gut at the thought that other people felt the same way.

“He just said she wasn’t a mobster. That’s all.”

Babs sighed. “That’s boring.”

There was nothing boring about Oswald.

Eventually the topic shifted to Lucius and Lee’s studies at Gotham University and Ed kept track of who was talking by flicking his eyes from one person to the next, but he lost track of what was being said.

Ed wanted to go to the party. He wanted to see Oswald in his suit again.

The bill came around and everyone chipped in for the drinks and fries, and Ed put forward his share even though all he got was a glass of water and three french fries.

They had exited the pub and were in the cool evening air outside when Babs, took him by the arm.

She had somehow extracted his phone from his jacket pocket and was plugging her number in. “Gimme a call when you set up those invites at Fish Mooney’s, alright?”

“Wait, you meant that?”

“Uh, yeah?” Babs snorted. “Who would wanna miss out on one of the hottest parties in Gotham at the hottest club run by the most powerful woman in town?”

Ed would, if he didn’t know Oswald would be there.

“Call me,” she said, slipping the phone back in his pocket. “You probably don’t hear that phrase often.”

With that and a couple of kisses to Lee and Kristen’s cheeks, she was off, walking down the street.

Ed glanced down at his phone and there it was, at the top, above Essen and the library and Ecco and Ivy and Kristen: Barbara Kean, followed by a crown emoji.

Lucius was next to leave, shaking hands with Ed and saying, “It was nice to meet you,” even though Ed was sure he didn’t mean it. Lee and Jim left in the other direction, waving, until they clasped hands and disappeared around a corner.

Ed and Kristen were the only ones left, standing facing each other. “You can call me too,” she said softly. “If you get an invite to the club.”

Ed nodded. “Thank you for inviting me. Your friends are very nice.” He hesitated. “Except for Barbara.”

“Yeah,” Kristen laughed. “She’s a bit of an acquired taste.” She turned pink when she said that, like there was something behind the comment, but Ed had no idea what else she could possibly mean, so he ignored it. “Get some rest tonight.” She smiled wide and then she was off, probably to her home.

Ed turned his phone back on so he could find directions to Ecco’s apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if you could tell I'm in love with Barbara Kean but I'm in love with Barbara Kean.


	7. To Die For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale said Ed was a whore so....

When Ed was about eight years old, he found out that there was something wrong with him.

He’d sat next to some of his peers at lunch and was explaining how baloney was made, because he’d seen a rather fascinating documentary about it on TV over the weekend, when one of the children said plainly, “Ed, you’re weird. Sit somewhere else.”

Ed never really understood what exactly it was that was so wrong with him, but he seemed to draw the same reaction from people.

Weirdo, freak, psycho.

Ecco insisted that those children had been right that he was weird.

“You’re a really weird guy. But I wouldn’t like you so much if you weren’t.”

Every night for the next few days, Ecco and Ed (and sometimes Ivy, if she had time) would play board games and watch horror movies and talk about work.

Ed was slowly becoming frustrated with the library’s clientele, swarms of people who were looking for books but didn’t know what the book was called, who it was by, what it was about--people who took phone calls in between the shelves--teenagers who made out when they thought nobody could see--

Ecco seemed to understand. She dealt with morons on the daily, she reported. Tuesday night, one man asked how much a date with her would cost. When she answered, “More than you’ll ever be able to pay,” he called her a whore.

“You work with people, you’re gonna eventually start hating the human race,” she mused. Ed thought that was true, and it might have been worrisome if he didn’t already feel resentment towards people as a whole.

Ed didn’t even need to ask about the party at Fish Mooney’s club, because Ecco came home that same day and exclaimed that Oswald had invited all three of them--Ecco, Ivy, and Ed--and that they were allowed a plus one each.

It was awkward trying to explain that he had somehow been coaxed by a woman he just met to get her into the party (as well as his coworker) but Ecco didn’t mind.

“I don’t have anyone I wanna bring anyway,” she said and that was that.

Ed texted Barbara the good news and she sent a thumbs up emoji, which was rather anticlimactic considering all the pressuring she’d put on him to arrange an invitation in the first place. Kristen was much more excited to receive the news, thanking Ed.

And then Ed went to work and came home everyday waiting for the weekend and for the party. For Oswald.

On Saturday, Ecco and Ivy took Ed thrift shopping, all intent on buying nice outfits for the party.

“You see, because it’s at Fish Mooney’s club, that means it’s an upscale event,” Ivy explained. “You wear your nice clothes to be able to get into her club.”

Ed had been immediately drawn to a green suit in the corner of the store and it was a decent enough fit so he purchased it and waited excitedly for Ecco and Ivy to be finished. Ecco chose a striped dress and Ivy chose a long gown and with that they went to Ivy’s house to put on makeup.

Ecco was excited to put makeup on Ed again and he let her, just because agreeing made her grin widely. She did a wonderful job, though Ed had little experience in the realm of makeup.

Green and silver eyeshadow and black eyeliner.

Ed almost didn’t recognize himself. Maybe that was the point.

He waited on the couch, thinking of Oswald in his suit, his bow tie, the way he smelled. For some reason he could imagine Oswald smiling at him upon his arrival at the club. “Oh, hello, Ed,” he would greet and then he’d lean in to give him a tender kiss on the cheek.

“I’ve been thinking about you ceaselessly,” Ed would confess and Oswald’s smile would vanish.

“I have too,” he might say, in a low growl, and then he’d kiss him fiercely on the mouth--

“Are you ready, Eddie?” Ecco chirped from the doorway. “Let’s move on out!”

Ed jumped to his feet, shaking his head out of his idiotic daydream. He’d flushed hot at the thought of a kiss. It was delusional fantasy at best.

The one good thing about inviting Barbara was that she had a car.

She eventually pulled up outside of Ivy’s apartment building in a shiny red Mercedes and they all piled into the leather backseat to see Barbara in the driver’s seat and Kristen--all dolled up--in shotgun.

“Hi, Ed!” she exclaimed, turning slightly in her seat to greet him.

“Are we ready to go?” Barbara asked impatiently, and Ed could see she was wearing a black fur coat.

The drive was quiet and painful, with the steady beat of music coming out of the speakers the only sound. Ed just looked out the window after the tapping of Barbara’s long, hot pink fingernails started to freak him out. He already felt nervous thinking of seeing Oswald again after so long.

He was going to look _so damn good_.

The valet was twelve dollars but all five of them pitched in and in no time at all, they were stepping to the front door where a bouncer was waiting.

“Name,” he deadpanned.

“Ivy Pepper.” Ivy looked behind her. “And party.”

Ed was almost nervous he wouldn’t be on the list but the bouncer only looked at him strangely and moved aside to allow them all entry.

“Who’d have thought it’d be so easy to get into a party at Mooney’s?” Barbara commented snidely as they walked into the club. Kristen giggled.

“It’s not,” Ivy corrected. “But Pengy is Fish’s favorite, so he and his friends get special privileges.”

“Remind me to introduce myself to him,” Barbara said. “I could use a friend with connections like that.”

The club was large and elegant, with gold and red draped all over the place. It was the peak of opulence and the chandeliers seemed to sparkle with a threat of violence.

They quickly found a booth and seated themselves, Ed stubbornly on the outside so he could escape if things turned too tense for him to handle. Or if he saw Oswald.

Ecco was on her phone next to Ed and Ivy got up to the bar to get their table some drinks.

Barbara sighed. “This place is great. I mean I’ve been here on regular nights but a party like this? This is really something.”

“Thank you for inviting us, Ed,” Kristen said sincerely from beside Barbara. “It was very nice of you.”

“Who else was he gonna invite?” Barbara snarked.

“Ooh!” Ecco exclaimed, finally looking up from her phone to grab Ed’s hand and _squeeze_. “Ozzie’s gonna come over as soon as he has a free moment! And he asked about you again!”

Ed’s stomach flipped. He glanced over at Kristen and Barbara, who were eyeing him strangely. He struggled to compose himself, to seem apathetic. “Oh. That’s… interesting. What… What did he say?”

“‘Is Ed with you guys?’” she read aloud. “And I said, ‘yeah and we put makeup on him’, and then he said, and I quote, ‘poor guy’.”

What did _that_ mean? Did Ed not look good in makeup? Had he been that much of a disappointment last week at the club?

Barbara leaned over the table to face Ecco, chin on her hand. “What, does Ed here have a _thing_ for the Penguin himself?”

Ecco glanced at Ed nervously. “Oops?” Ed answered by glaring at the table.

“You do!”

Ecco sighed. “Okay, he does, but it’s the cutest thing _ever_ , how much of a crush he has.”

Barbara threw her head back with laughter and Ed almost cried with relief when Ivy returned to the table with a tray of drinks.

Ed reached immediately for a glass and chugged the whole thing down immediately.

“Damn, Ed, you can’t get wasted everytime--”

He got up in a rush, his head throbbing with the music and the heavy fog of the drink. “I’m gonna get another one.”

He was relieved that the bartender was not bald. He had a full head of hair and a beard. Probably not Oswald’s type.

When Ed returned, holding the glass with both hands at sipping at the drink through a green straw that he specifically requested (the bartender also threw in a little pink umbrella for him and called him sweet), Oswald was standing by the table. From behind, he looked very handsome. Ed stopped to admire the view for a moment.

He couldn’t linger for long because Ecco saw him and beckoned him over. He sat beside her but refused to look over at her, still angry for giving away his secret like that to Barbara, who had been nothing but cruel to him.

“Ed,” Oswald said, looking down at him. Ed almost choked on his drink at the sight of him--he was somehow so much more beautiful under the chandelier lighting. God of riches and elegance.

“Hi, Oswald,” Ed replied, voice much softer than he intended. He could hear Barbara huff out a laugh behind him and he ripped his eyes away from Oswald’s before he swore fealty to him or something ridiculous like that.

“I’m Barbara Kean,” Barbara said smoothly, holding her hand across the table. Oswald shook it.

“I’m Kristen!” She waved excitedly. “I work with Ed.”

“At the library?” Oswald withdrew his hand away from Barbara and for some reason Ed wished he could reach over and hold it. He found himself staring at it while the others talked. It would go up and smooth a lock of gelled hair back into place very delicately. Maybe his wrist would twist just _so_ at his side. As the conversation went on, his fingers would occasionally dance at the hem of his suit jacket, or absently fix his collar.

Ed’s focus was broken only when a woman walked up to the booth with all the confidence in the world.

“Oswald,” she said slowly. It sounded like a threat but her tone was still gooey like lava. “I need you in the back, please.”

Oswald nodded. “I’ll see you later, maybe.” And then he walked away from the booth. The woman stayed.

She was wearing a snakeskin dress and she looked like a goddess. Ed knew already that this was Fish Mooney. The way she presented herself, the way she stood like she was larger than everyone else even though she was even shorter than Oswald--it was certainly her. Ed gulped in fear.

Fish seemed to like that. “I haven’t seen you around,” she remarked. “Are you Oswald’s new toy?”

Ed wanted to nod, but it wasn’t true so he shook his head.

“He’s my new roommate,” Ecco cut in. “He’s new in town and I thought he can’t be properly introduced to Gotham until he’s seen Mooney’s.”

Fish grinned and even though none of her teeth showed, she still resembled a shark. “Thank you, Ecco. It’s always a pleasure seeing your face around here.” She turned to Ed again. “Welcome to my club.” She swept her arms in a grandiose but effortless gesture. “It’s always a pleasure to have newcomers at my club. I’m sure you’re enjoying Gotham so far.”

Ed nodded. “Your club is beautiful,” he blurted. “The chandelier is real crystal, I presume?”

Fish nodded, a spark of interest in her eyes. “I don’t have anything fake in my club.”

“I thought so. I’ve always been interested in crystallography. I don’t suppose you know what kind of crystal it is?”

Fish’s eyes blinked and narrowed. “It was nice meeting you, Green Man.” She turned to Ecco and Ivy and smiled before walking away.

“Great and I didn’t even get to say hi because Ed couldn’t stop being a nerd for two seconds.”

“Babs,” Kristen whispered. “It’s okay. We’ll talk to her later.”

Ed was ashamed anyhow, even though Babs seemed somewhat acquiesced by Kristen’s reassuring touch on her arm. He kept sipping at his drink.

Eventually, he got to his fourth drink and he wanted to cry from how much he already missed Oswald. He kept his mouth shut about it, of course, unwilling to have Babs mock him for it some more, but the feeling lingered.

The conversation went from work to relationships to green tea to hand lotion to the mayor and to Fish Mooney and it all made Ed so dizzy he lost track of who was saying what. Ecco and Ivy got up from the table to go dance and then an hour passed and Ed was sure they weren’t coming back anytime soon.

Kristen and Barbara talked for some time, mostly about Jim and Lee and how they hadn’t been hanging out with the rest of the group as much.

“Did you know,” Ed said when there was finally silence at the table. He took a quick sip of his drink before continuing. “That humans have one of the most efficient digestive systems in the animal kingdom? Granted, we cannot digest grass, but, as omnivores, we have adaptive stomachs that can digest a wide range of foods. We eat a lot and digest it very quickly and that’s great. I think that’s rather neat. Oh. Except that we need to eat more frequently than other animals do. Snakes only have to eat once or twice a month but we eat several times a day. We have a more complex diet, of course. And we’re hot blooded. The differences between us and snakes is actually rather extensive. But the difference between humans and _rats_ is actually rather minimal. Our brains function on a similar level and--”

“He just never shuts up, does he?” Barbara groaned, taking a shot. “Kristen, please stab me.”

Ed was about to argue that he actually had been quiet most of the evening but then he caught a glance of Oswald. He followed him with his eyes as Oswald walked to the corner near the bar where another man was. The man gave him a drink and they both raised their glasses in toast. They drank and then the man put his drink down so he could kiss Oswald.

Ed felt sick.

“E--excuse me,” he said, getting clumsily to his feet. There was a moment of brief vertigo where the world seemed to roll around on its axis and then he was steady, if only for a moment.

“Thank God,” Barbara sighed but Ed couldn’t find it within himself to be hurt. Nothing hurt more than seeing Oswald put his own glass down and put his beautiful hand on that man’s unworthy hip.

He didn’t remember walking to Oswald but suddenly he was there. He opened his mouth to speak, so that Oswald would break away from the other man and maybe choose him instead, but he didn’t know what to say, so he just stood behind them for a minute, trying to recall exactly where he was.

He got a little dizzy and he held onto Oswald’s shoulder for support, on accident.

Oswald turned around. “Ed?”

And then Ed was throwing up.

* * *

_So open your eyes._

“Jesus fuck!” said an unfamiliar voice, probably Oswald’s _toy_. “That is nasty, dude.”

“Shh!” Oswald hissed. “Ed? Ed? Are you okay?”

Ed opened his eyes and saw he was sitting on his knees in front of his own vomit. He looked up and saw Oswald kneeling beside him. “Oswald?”

“You okay? You need to go home?”

“No!” Ed tried to stand, but he couldn’t get to his feet, he just fell back on his ass. “No, I want to stay here.” _With you._

“Okay, okay, shh.” Oswald looked up at his toy. “Rain check?”

“Ugh, whatever,” the man said and then he was walking off in a huff.

“Jerk,” Ed bit out. Oswald chuckled. Ed could feel it again.

“Come on, Ed.” He was being lifted, beautiful hand on _his_ waist, his own arm draped around Oswald’s shoulder. “Here, take a seat.” Ed was being pushed gently onto a barstool. “You feel okay? Just sit there while I call Ivy, alright?”

Ed obeyed, resting against the bar while watching Oswald dial his sister-not-sister. “Did I puke on you?” he asked, nervous about the answer.

Oswald smiled at him and shook his head.

“Good. I don’t wanna do that to you.”

Oswald kept eye contact as he tried to dial a few times. Ed still felt sick, especially considering what he was watching before he threw up. Oswald gestured for the bartender and muttered something about getting Ed a glass of water. When the bartender complied, Ed downed the whole thing, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth

“She won’t answer.”

“Ivy and Ecco ran off,” Ed hissed conspiratorially. “Don’t tell anyone but I think they went to have sex.”

Oswald bit his lip to hide his laugh, but Ed could tell he was amused. “You’re the worst cockblock.”

Ed furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He had no intention of interrupting Ecco and Ivy. “What--”

“Wait here for a second. I have to ask my boss something and then I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

“Oh, you can do whatever you want to me,” Ed said, but Oswald was already gone.

Ed rolled his head back against the bar, suddenly incapable of holding it upright. He stared at the ceiling, counting the crystals in the chandelier above him and repeatedly losing count until Oswald’s voice returned, closer than before.

“She said okay, so here we go,” he muttered, almost to himself, placing his hand on Ed’s waist again. Ed almost sighed with happiness--or maybe he did; he couldn’t be sure--and put both arms around Oswald’s neck, pulling him close. His hair smelled delightful. He could feel Oswald’s laugh from where their chests were flush. “No, Ed, listen, we have to get to the guest suite.”

_Are you gonna ravish me in there--how improper--_

Ed pulled one of his arms back and Oswald helped him walk until they were at a narrow but intricately decorated door. Ed watched as his free hand vanished into his pocket and then emerged again with a key inside it, unlocking the door.

“Miss Mooney has a few of these guest suites on reserve for when her clientele wants to get busy. She sometimes hosts specifically themed parties for the purpose of encouraging people use to them.”

“I could listen to you talk all day,” Ed mused, resting his head on Oswald’s shoulder.

“Here,” Oswald carefully let Ed drop onto the bed. “You can sleep here tonight because Ivy and Ecco are busy. Get in bed.”

“I’m allowed?” Ed asked. “What if a couple wants to have sex here? Should I leave?”

Oswald snickered. “Nobody’s gonna come in here. I asked Miss Mooney specifically and she said you could sleep here. I’m the only one with this key so I’m the only one who can come in to bother you.” Ed felt a thrill at that discovery.

“She doesn’t like me,” he muttered, rearranging himself so that he was under the comforter and nestled in the red silk sheets.

“Yeah, she doesn’t like most people,” Oswald replied. “But she likes me so you can sleep here.”

“‘Cause she thinks I’m your new toy,” Ed said, nuzzling against the soft pillow.

“What?”

Ed didn’t mean to say that. Oops.

“I have to go back to work now, Ed,” Oswald said. “I’ll wake you in the morning and make sure you get home.”

Ed could fall asleep listening to that voice…

He heard footsteps and shot up in bed. “No, please don’t leave!”

Oswald was near the door, looking over his shoulder in surprise. “I have to finish my work, Ed.”

“Come back when you’re done? Please?”

Oswald looked at him for a while, biting his lip. “Okay. But go to sleep, okay?”

* * *

Ed did not go to sleep. He stared at the ceiling until he’d counted the spirals carved into the wood ten times. He memorized the room: the lamps, the glowing red light, the plush golden carpets, the romantic wood paneling of the bed, the red walls so dark they were almost black.

He waited, eyes glancing over at the door every once in a while, trying to keep track of time.

It must’ve been at least two hours.

He recounted the periodic table forwards and backwards. He counted the money he had left over until his first pay check. He tried to recall how many birds he’d cut open, how many times his father had yelled at him for it.

He tried to list different types of knives. What uses they’d have.

All the ways you could kill someone. All the ways to make it look like an accident.

And then the door unlocked and Oswald was in the doorway.

Ed sat up. “You came back.”

“I told you to go to sleep,” Oswald said, closing the door behind him.

“I was waiting for you.”

“I was just going to check on you.”

Ed reclined back onto the bed. “I don’t want to be alone. Stay?”

“There’s nowhere for me to sit, Ed.”

Ed scooted over on the bed and held up the comforter.

A sigh. Then Oswald was shedding his suit jacket and climbing into the bed, taking his shoes off before situating himself under the comforter. “You are so weird.”

“Could you… hold me?” Oswald looked startled. “Just… Just because I feel unwell and--And maybe it would make me feel better to be held.”

“Oh,” Oswald exhaled. “Okay.”

Ed was gently coaxed onto his other side, and then there was an arm around his middle. Oswald was spooning him, face against his back.

“Is this okay?”

“It’s wonderful,” Ed sighed.

“I was gonna get laid tonight, you pain in the ass.”

“Sorry,” he said, but he didn’t mean it. He pressed backwards against Oswald, squirming to get closer. “I thought you didn’t date.”

“Who told you that?”

“Ecco.”

Oswald groaned. “That’s none of her business.”

“Do you date?”

Oswald sighed. “No. But it’s not like some sort of dumb rule. I mean I don’t look down on couples or think love is stupid.” He was silent for a moment, moving his hand gently against the sheets in front of Ed’s stomach. “In fact, it’s the opposite. My mother taught me that life only gives you one true love. When you find it, you run to it. I don’t wanna waste my time settling for anything less.”

Even a god of death and beauty could get lonely. Hades fell in love too.

“So you have sex with people but you don’t date?”

“Sex is… different or whatever.”

“How will you know when you’ve met your true love?”

“You just know,” Oswald answered. “You can feel it.”

“So you aren’t dating the bald bartender?”

“Zsasz? There is nothing particularly romantic about him. And he is the absolute worst at pillow talk. He thought a platypus was a mythical creature.”

Ed wondered what Oswald thought of _his_ pillow talk.  After all, they were talking on pillows. Pillow talk. “What about the guy tonight?”

“I just met him. I’ve already forgotten his name and, like you said, he was a jerk. I probably won’t be touching that again.”

Ed turned around, loathe to disrupt their embrace. He wanted to see him. “Thank you for staying here with me.”

“You asked me to,” Oswald explained. Ed reached for his tie and loosened it before pulling it off completely, and discarding it somewhere on the floor. There, as recompense. “I lost out on a hookup tonight because of you. You owe me.”

“Like… I owe you my body?”

Oswald snorted. “No, idiot. I wouldn’t make you do something like that. Besides, you’re not exactly my type.” Ed’s face fell. He could feel his heart get crushed into tiny shards. One or two of them was swimming in his bloodstream, ready to clot his veins. “And you’re a virgin. You’re probably terrible in bed.”

“I could be good, though,” Ed protested. “Maybe I practice.”

“Do you practice?” Oswald asked.

Ed’s face heated up. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll let the debt slide this once. But don’t cockblock me again.”

Ed nodded. “Yes, sir.”

They both rested there on their sides looking at each other.

“Will you hold me again?”

“You’re such a baby,” Oswald complained, but he put his arm around his waist anyway.

Ed buried his face in the space between Oswald’s neck and his shoulder, trying not to cry at how little of a chance he had.

A kid, not his type. Annoying baby.

But at the very least, he had this.

Oswald was with him. He was with Edward Nygma, not off having meaningless sex with some random stranger.

If nothing else, at least he always had this.


	8. Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of y'all were upset at the last chapter and I don't think this one will help. Sorry!

Ed woke up about an hour after falling asleep to the sound of a violently vibrating phone. He refused to move out of the warm cocoon he was encased in, choosing instead to keep his eyes closed and burrow his nose further into Oswald’s neck.

Oswald was the one to move, groaning loudly and removing the arm that had been around Ed to answer his phone. Ed kept his eyes closed.

“Hello?” Oswald said, voice thick with sleep. “Oh. Ivy. No, it’s okay. Yeah, he’s with me.” Ed agreed, nuzzling a little into Oswald’s neck to chase his warmth. “Yeah, maybe you should watch his booze because he was wasted. I’ll tell you later. No, he’s fine. He’s sleeping like a baby. I’ll call you in the morning. Thanks for calling. Good night.”

Ed heard the thud of the phone on the floor and Oswald sighing in exasperation before turning back over and wrapping his arm around Ed again. 

Ed was content to feign sleep, smiling as he fell back into repose.

* * *

 

He woke up alone again, the other side of the bed unmade and cold. He sat up slowly and realized with dismay that his head was throbbing and his stomach wanted to empty itself again.

He put his shoes back on and exited the guest suite, walking into the club in broad daylight. 

It looked different, shrouded in natural light. Much of the air of mystery and elegance was gone. Now it was just an empty bar with some gold decorations. 

He shuffled towards the exit when he heard Oswald say, “Good morning.” 

His heart leapt in his chest and he turned quickly to the bar. Oswald was behind it, sipping at an orange beverage. 

“Do you want a smoothie?” he asked, holding up his glass. Ed nodded. Oswald moved to pour another glass out of the blender. He placed the glass on a coaster on the bar and went back to drinking his own smoothie.

Ed took a sip and was struck by his contrasting revulsion and inability to stop drinking until the glass was empty.

Oswald laughed. “I thought maybe you were just an alcoholic but you really drink everything the same way, don’t you?”

“I was thirsty, I suppose.”

“I bet.”

Ed felt like Oswald was teasing him, since he was smirking over the rim of his glass, but he didn’t get it. “Thank you. I remember being rather demanding last night.”

Oswald shrugged. “It was kind of cute. But remember that you promised not to cockblock me again. I’m holding you to that.”

Ed smiled and nodded, despite recalling that Oswald had broken his heart last night. How could he have forgotten?

_ Want me back, want me back, want me back-- _

“Do you need a lift back to Ecco’s?” 

Ed shook his head, already reaching for his phone to input the address into his GPS.

“Are you sure? Miss Mooney has a driver on call and I have his number.”

Ed imagined being in the car with the driver, the driver asking him questions about where to and why he was red in the face and the horror if Ed couldn’t help himself and threw up again on exquisite leather seats--

“No, it’s alright. I can take the bus.”

“You’re choosing the bus over a personal driver? You are  _ weird _ .”

Ed bit his lip and pulled up the bus route for his new apartment. Thankfully, it would only take one bus and a fifteen minute walk.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Ed couldn’t believe he was shaking his head. 

Now that he was out of the warm delusion, no longer being held by the objection of his infatuation, he couldn’t stand to stay. Oswald didn’t have feelings for him,  _ couldn’t  _ have feelings for him. 

It hurt.

“Thank you for everything, Oswald. I promise not to interrupt your plans again.”

He was being serious, but Oswald laughed anyway. “Really, I was just joking. It’s not your fault. Besides, the guy was an asshole. You might as well have saved me.”

Ed chuckled. He needed to get out of here before he fell deeper in love.

“I should go,” he said, standing and refusing to make eye contact.

“We should hang out sometime,” Oswald said. Ed wanted to scream. “I mean, we’ve already slept together--” Just a funny joke but Ed couldn’t laugh. It wasn’t funny. It was just a horrible joke. “--but it would be nice to get lunch or something. I know a lot of good places around here.”

It sounded like heaven, but Ed was suddenly reminded of the serpent in the Garden of Eden who had made sweet, delectable promises of tempting bliss and instead brought nothing but misery and damnation.

Oswald wasn’t the devil but Ed was being punished for wanting him anyway.

Still, it would be the most exquisite torture. 

“Yes,” he said softly. “I would love that.” He would.

“Here, gimme your phone.” Ed surrendered it with no hesitation. Oswald typed into it and then handed it back. “Text me whenever you’re free.” 

Ed could already see himself texting Oswald every moment he could.

_ This reminds me of you. _

_ Good morning. _

_ You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. _

_ Can I see you today? _

_ I can’t stop thinking about you. _

_ I’m not a kid, I promise. _

This was a horrible idea. He couldn’t say no.

“I will,” he said, already scolding his future self for messing the text message up.

“Now go, before you miss your bus,” Oswald said with a smile. 

Ed gave him one last look. 

Messy, black hair, still unbrushed after sleep but still somewhat in the spiky shape it had been in last night. Collar loose, jacket still in the guest suite, tie on the floor. Makeup faded under his eyes.

He was a vision. Ed wanted desperately to kiss him.

Instead he waved and then left.

* * *

 

He got on the bus and paid his discounted fare using an old student ID card.

He walked to the seat in the very back and pulled his knees up under his chin, hugging them with his arms. He buried his face into his elbows and sobbed and didn’t stop until forty minutes later when he pulled the string for his stop.

He sniffled all the way to the apartment, his thoughts becoming more and more dismal as he walked.

_ Unlovable unlovable.  _

_ Weird. Psycho. _

_ Not my son. _

_ Disgraceful. _

_ Freak. _

_ Kid. Not my type. _

He almost wished Oswald had called him a freak and a loser instead.

* * *

 

_ MISSING: EDWARD NASHTON, NINETEEN YEARS OLD. METROPOLIS. _

_ Brown hair, brown eyes, glasses. 6’0’’. _

_ Edward has been missing for more than a week. If you have any information, please call the offices of his father, Mr. John Nashton, at the following number. _

_ Please help us find this boy. His family misses him dearly and just wants to see him back home, safe and sound. _

* * *

 

Ed figured that they’d look for him sooner or later. Eventually, he knew, they would give up.

It was best for them all, really, to let this unravel as Ed had intended. 

His parents could pretend like he’d been horribly, viciously murdered and they would no longer feel obligated to do anything about him again. And he could be happy, maybe. For once.

But at this moment they were looking for him, tracking him down, putting up posters and sending the police out for him. Ed even saw a blurb about himself in a newspaper at the library, but he rejoiced at the blurry and outdated photograph.

His parents had probably encountered a great deal of trouble at his disappearance and he knew all along that they would be livid. 

They had very few photographs of him and the one they used was from a scheduled family photo from a couple years ago. Ed remembered standing for the photo, next to his parents, smiling wide and feeling the clench of his father’s hand against his shoulder. The photograph was framed in smooth black and placed in the foyer for all to see when they entered.

Happy, normal family.

They would need a photograph to alert people of his disappearance and his parents had probably eyed each other wearily, thinking, “Do we even  _ have  _ any pictures of him?”

He’d deleted his social media accounts, not that he had ever used them. Social  _ anything  _ wasn’t Edward’s thing. He made a new email, forged new documents for himself. He kept his grades, of course. They were already perfect and his 4.0 high school GPA was the only thing from his old life that he was willing to share.

They were chasing him. For now.

They would give up. When they couldn’t find him and all trace of him had vanished from their lives, they would give up and announce with crocodile tears that they feared the worst: that their  _ dear, beloved, sweet  _ son had been murdered by some pervert and left on the side of the road.

Maybe, deep inside, they’d rejoice, consider it a fitting end. Continue as they had been. Poor, grieving parents, the darlings of the cul de sac.

He had such a bright future.

Extinguished. Lights out.

_ Just stop looking for me _ .

* * *

 

Ed didn’t want to come off as desperate, even though he  _ was _ . He never wanted to be parted from Oswald again, wanted to call him and hear his voice and confess his feelings. And it would be okay if Oswald couldn’t feel the same because love wasn’t defined by reciprocity. Ed would do  _ anything for him _ .

And that’s why he left Oswald’s number untouched.

Sunday afternoon dripped away and Ed spent the whole of it in his bed, nursing his headache and listening to an “unrequited love” playlist on YouTube. 

He cried in intervals and ate some of Ecco’s peanut butter while she slept away her own hangover in her room. 

He was feeling somewhat delirious when he typed “what to do if you’re not his type” into Google but the results were not helpful at all. 

He was sobbing into his pillow when Ecco entered his room.

“Oh, Eddie,” she cooed when he sat up with a start. “Hangovers suck, huh?”

Ed nodded, pretending like that was the reason for the crooning despaired song playing on his phone. 

“Here, I have aspirin. Ivy and I have a surprise planned for you today. We’re gonna have some fun, I promise.”

Ed nodded and washed up for the day, downing the aspirin and changing into some comfortable clothing, as Ecco requested.

They walked together, hand in hand, Ecco talking about a TV show she started watching. Ed listened, eager for a break from the stupid self-pity he’d wrapped himself in.

They entered a bowling alley.

They rented some ugly purple shoes and walked to the lane, where Ivy was already waiting, wearing her bowling shoes. 

“Took you guys long enough,” she admonished.

Ecco shrugged. Ivy had already put all their names into the computer, putting up the bumpers for all of them. 

_ Clown Girl, Plant Princess, Eddie. _

Ed was terrible at bowling. Even with the bumpers, the ball would roll into the corner and fail to knock over a single pin. He’d thought it would be easy since he was smart and knew enough trigonometry to know the game was all angles, but his calculations were in vain at the unpracticed imprecision of his wrist. 

Ecco was the best of them, cheering loudly at her spares and the occasional strike. 

They ordered nachos and mozzarella sticks and even though Ed knew they were unhealthy--a grease trap, he might have called them--he ate his fair share.

He couldn’t help but have fun. 

For the second game, Ecco came up behind him to show him how to throw properly.

“Don’t make any moves on my girl!” Ivy yelled from the seats. 

“Try to visualize it like a straight line. Do a practice one a few times until you’ve got the direction you want, and then shoot.” With Ecco’s help, Ed starting hitting more pins. He still had an unimpressive score but he’d get a seven and the girls would break into rancorous applause so it was hard not to smile with pride.

Ivy got a strike and started cheering loudly for herself. Despite Ecco’s feigned bitterness and crossed arms, Ivy still grabbed her face for a passionate kiss.

Ed felt a jab at his heart at that but ignored it. He was  _ happy _ . This was all he had ever wanted.

He was in a bowling alley, like a regular person, playing a few games with his friends over awful food. 

“You guys don’t stand a chance against me!” Ivy shouted.

“This is your first strike,” Ecco bit out spitefully, smiling nonetheless.

Ed pulled out his phone and searched for Oswald’s number. 

It was okay. They could be friends. Ed wanted that. He’d never had friends. 

_ Hi, Oswald. It’s Ed. It would be a pleasure to hang out with you _ .

“Ed, come on. It’s your turn.”

Ed hit send and got to his feet. “I think I might win this round.”

“Oh, yes,” Ecco said. “Eddie is the unprecedented contender, out of the shadows to defeat us all!”

Ivy and Ecco cheered together for Ed and he let his heart flutter. He hadn’t even noticed that his headache was gone.

This was the happiest he’d ever been.

He got a spare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a tribute to one of my favorite bands, The Birthday Massacre. The story title, as well as the individual chapter titles, are all taken from their songs. If you want, give them a listen. I am slowly making a playlist on Spotify and I'll post the link when there's more songs on there.


	9. Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't responded to a lot of comments because everytime I try, I find myself incapable of properly putting my gratitude into words. Just know that I reread all of them dozens of times and I love you all dearly. I'll try to respond to them, though.
> 
> This is maybe sappy. I'm not sorry.

Oswald did funny things with his face.

Ed paid a spectacular amount of attention to him at their first dinner together, sitting in a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant.

Expressive was an understatement.

It was almost as if he couldn’t _not_ react. A laugh, a snort, a grimace. His face could change four times in a few seconds. This was Ed’s new favorite thing about him.

Make him furrow his eyebrows and scrunch up his nose.

Make him lift his eyebrows up and suck his lips into his mouth.

Make his eyes roll elegantly up to the ceiling until he chuckled in fond exasperation.

Make him _smile._

Oswald bit his lip while waiting for Ed to make a selection from the laminated menu. He held his hands patiently clasped on the table when they talked in anticipation of their food. He toyed with the drawstrings of his hoodie as the waitress set the food in front of them.

The table was small, maybe two feet squared in total. Ed could easily swing forward casually and hook his ankle around Oswald’s. He didn’t, of course, but he spent the whole dinner thinking about it.

Oswald was a messy eater, not afraid to slurp and chew loudly, or talk with a mouthful of food. Ed _loved_ it. He ate in a more reserved and delicate manner and observed everything Oswald did, almost as if to memorize it. To memorize him.

The second time they had dinner, it was right after Oswald’s work, so he was once more in a dazzling suit, this time donning a cross tie instead of a bow tie. Together they looked out of place in the outdoor seating of a greasy restaurant called the Chiccen Shacc. Perhaps “restaurant” was an inaccurate term. The kitchen was inside a sedentary trailer, with a ramp outside of it that led to a window for ordering food.

This was one of Oswald’s favorite eateries, he confessed.

“The chicken is really fucking good,” he said as they waited for their order number to be called, voice melting into something that was almost sinful.

Oswald had advised him on his order, recommending the spicy fried chicken with the biscuits and gravy.

“It’s much better than KFC,” Oswald said. Ed had never been to KFC.

The tables and chairs were all picnic benches of a cheap variety, the plastic paint in between the holes of the table frozen in mid-drip. They sat at the table sipping at their drinks, Ed asking Oswald a riddle and watching excitedly as Oswald’s mouth twisted in distaste.

“Again with the riddles, Ed?” He sounded fond rather than annoyed and Ed’s heart fluttered as he nodded.

Then their number was called and Oswald jumped to fetch the styrofoam take-out boxes, as if to escape the riddle. Ed didn’t mind. He got to watch Oswald walk to the window and reach up just a bit so he could get a grip on the boxes.

Oswald had advised him well. When they finished their meal, they were both greasy and stuffed. Oswald looked handsome with some of the breading crumbs still around his mouth. If Ed was a bold or rude (or stupid) man he would have leaned across the table to kiss his face clean.

The temptation was there.

The third time was at a small, sweltering dive. The heat was on too strong and the place was crowded, so the clustered body heat of the clientele seemed to radiate in hundreds of degrees.

The food was spicy Indian and it did not help.

Ed wanted more than ever to kiss and to pull Oswald closer until they were flush.

Instead he panted over his food and ordered refill after refill of ice water.

Oswald apologized for the heat afterward, when they were walking in the chilly air outside to get to the bus stop.

The sky was dark and Oswald’s face was only barely lit up by the streetlamps lining the sidewalk.

That hadn’t been the best work day. An elderly woman had screamed at him for ten minutes when he said they were out of copies of a popular crime novel to _order more of them_. A high school study group had reserved a room for after school and they had giggled about him as he had led them to the room. A man asked where the porn DVDs were and then started cackling when Ed flushed violent red.

Of all the birds he’d carefully cut up, he’d never been violent about it. He did not do it out of some sadistic desire to see an animal bleed or to hear it whimper in pain. He’d only collected the dead ones, the ones that had fallen on the roadside and were of no consequence to anybody.

He had never wanted to kill an animal.

But he was starting to feel somewhat murderous about the patrons of the library.

Kristen was of very little help. She had thick skin and was unbothered by the pestering of the customers. She had no advice to give except to “hang in there”, which was useless and of the same variety of advice that those relationship sites gave him when he had Googled what to do about Oswald’s lack of affection.

Hang in there.

Suck it up.

Time heals all wounds.

The same advice recycled and reused and regurgitated and utterly _useless_.

Ed had sucked it up his whole life, getting screamed at for doing nothing, and now he was right back to it, just as he thought he was out.

He found his fists clenching, his nostrils flaring, his lungs setting on fire.

But seeing Oswald like that, with his part of his face lit up by bright yellow and the rest covered in shadow, was enough to melt any anger inside of him.

“It’s fine,” Ed said with a smile.

These dinners, spread out over the course of a week and a half, were probably a mistake.

It wasn’t healthy by any stretch of the imagination to cling to a man who was uninterested. It was masochistic and agonizing but Ed couldn’t stop.

They were at the bus stop and Ed’s bus was approaching.

“This was great. I like hanging out with you, Ed.”

Ed nodded. “Ditto, Oswald.”

“Text me next time you’re free for dinner again.”

The healthy thing to do would be to say “no” and to explain that he had feelings for him, that he wanted to kiss and be used up and thrown away and kept close and treasured and taken on dates. The healthy thing would be to put a stop to this before it was too late and Ed was in love.

Ed wasn’t healthy.

It was too late.

“Of course.”

“I have to meet up with Victor now,” Oswald said, rolling his eyes.

Ed could stop him, probably. Say that he’s scared to go back in the dark all by himself, say that he doesn’t want to be alone tonight. He could lean over and kiss and press himself against and whisper, “Please stay,” and maybe Oswald would exhale tightly and drag him into an alley or something (would it count as cockblocking if Oswald still got something from it?). He could start sobbing and profess his love and cling to Oswald’s shirt and beg him to stay and even if Oswald didn’t feel the same, he might still decide to comfort him.

But Ed had promised.

“Have fun,” he said, trying to imbue his voice with enthusiasm but falling short. It sounded clipped, even to himself.

“We’ll see,” Oswald replied, sounding begrudging, as if he was about to go perform a chore. Maybe he wanted to be stopped this time.

But it wasn’t Ed’s place to try and read into things. There was too high of a chance it would backfire if he did.

“I look forward to seeing you again,” he whispered. Oswald’s face softened.

The bus slowed to a stop in front of them, the doors swinging open.

“See you later, Ed.”

Ed paid the fare and sat near the front, waving at Oswald out the window and seeing him bite his lip as he waved back.

Ed couldn’t have everything he wanted with Oswald but this was lovely. It was enough.

* * *

 

Over the course of two weeks, Ed had earned enough money to pay Ecco back for the clothes and to start grocery shopping. He wanted to cook for his friend, using healthy ingredients.

Ecco was initially shocked by the fresh produce in the fridge, she decided to leave him be when she tasted his cooking.

“You’re not bad,” she said, pouring a second helping.

Maybe Ed would be able to coax Oswald into eating dinner at Ecco’s, and he could cook for him too. It was a wonderful fantasy, and although it could never be overtly romantic, there was still a chance Oswald would accept an offer of good food.

In addition to cooking, Ed had done himself another favor and deleted the news app off his phone. Getting highlights from local news sites about the poor Nashtons’ desperate search for their dear missing son was starting to make him nervous because the more time passed the more fervent their search was.

They had even made a public statement, something that was probably expected of them as important members of the community. A lawyer and a doctor, standing with solemn faces in front of a camera, wearing their very best dark clothes.

“Our son has been missing for three weeks,” his mother had said, voice breaking. “We just want our little Eddie back home.”

“We refuse to give up hope that he is out there somewhere. We will not rest until we have found him.” His father’s words sounded like a threat and in that moment, Ed exited the app and pressed the little “x” next to the icon, hyperventilating at the idea of his parents hunting him _forever_ , never letting him free.

For a few days now he had not received any news about the people who had conceived him, and he was starting to forget.

He decided to text Oswald, his friend now, as soon as he reasonably could, several days after their last dinner.

_Hello, Oswald. I’m free tonight after work for dinner. Ecco’s going out with Ivy so maybe you could come over to our apartment and I could cook something for us?_

Texting with Ecco and Ivy had led into a pseudo-education about the use of emojis, so Ed included a smiley face just to liven the message. Maybe Oswald would like that.

As he waited for a reply, he tried to think of what he could make for Oswald with what they had in the fridge. Maybe he’d have time to go grocery shopping before Oswald came over. And then the phone pinged and he stumbled with it in his rush to check the message.

_Sorry, Ed. I can’t have dinner tonight. I’m sick. Rain check?_

A sick emoji.

Ed inhaled wistfully. He had been looking forward to this.

_That’s okay. Feel better soon._

Then he had a horrible, stupid idea.

He texted Ecco an inquiry and received a keyboard smash in return before she actually answered his question.

* * *

 

He knocked on the door three times, figuring that was the normal amount. One two three, in quick succession.

After a few moments, Ed raised his hand to strike again (one two three, one two three, quick succession), but then the door swung open and there stood a bewildered looking woman with wild hair.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Her voice was high pitched and accented.

Ed blinked in surprise. Was this the wrong apartment? Maybe Ecco accidentally texted him the wrong address.

“I’m here to see Oswald?” He looked behind the woman to see a feminine apartment, covered in doilies and floral patterns. It was a stark change from Ecco’s horror show taste in interior decor.

“Oh, he is sick,” she said, smiling. “Sorry. I will tell him you come.”

Ed lifted the plastic bag in his hands. “I know he is. I--I brought something for him.”

The woman looked surprised for a moment before her face broke in half into the largest smile Ed had ever seen. “Of course, of course! Come in!”

She invited him in, beckoning with her arms until he entered and she slammed the door shut.

“I am Gertrud,” she introduced, doing a sort of curtsy. “I am Oswald’s mother.” She sounded rather proud of herself, and Ed figured she ought to be.

“I’m Ed,” he replied. “Oswald’s… friend.”

Gertrud smiled and then took the bag from Ed’s hands and walking excitedly to the tiny kitchen. Ed followed, nervous.

She extracted the plastic container of soup and sighed happily. “Oh, lovely! You have made my boy soup!”

Ed blushed. “Yes, he told me he was sick, so I thought--”

“I will warm it up and then you can bring it to him.” She winked at him and giggled, pouring the soup into a pot waiting on the stove top. “It will take only a few minutes and then you can show him. He will be so happy!”

That was reassuring to hear, because Ed had not been so sure, himself. Part of him had wondered if Oswald had said he was sick so he wouldn’t have to eat Ed’s food, or because he didn’t want to see him again. He was afraid the door would open and the bald bartender would be standing there with his frightful smile, wearing no clothes. Upon seeing Ed, he’d call into the apartment, “Oswald! Your stalker is here!” and then Ed would hear Oswald groan with exasperation and--

And that had not happened.

Gertrud said Oswald was sick. He hadn’t lied.

Ed felt guilty for feeling any doubt.

“Oswald has told me about _Edward_ ,” Gertrud said, stirring the soup with a wooden spoon and then leaving it to heat, turning to face Ed. “You live with Ecco.”

Ed nodded.

“I am not used to that. A man and woman living together, not married. It is very weird. But you young Americans are so different. Dear Ivy has slept in Oswald’s bed since they are tiny.” She put her hand down to her mid-thigh to demonstrate how tiny they had been.

Ed opened his mouth to speak but then was at a loss for what to say.

“Oswald tells me you are very smart. You like reading.” Ed nodded, eager to change the subject.

“Yes, I work at the library.”

“Yes, Oswald tells me you never stop talking, either.”

Ed snapped his mouth shut. He hadn’t noticed.

“He is easily annoyed, my boy,” she continued. “You annoy him a little bit but he likes you anyway.”

Ed felt two emotions at once: dismay at having annoyed Oswald and pride that Oswald talked to his mother about him.

Gertrud turned back to the stove to stir a little more. Ed watched, hands at his sides, useless.

“Soup is good,” she said. “You have made it well. My boy cannot cook, but he loves to eat. He will love your soup.”

“That’s good to hear.” Ed could feel some of the tension ease out of him. “I used chicken stock, carrots, and noodles. I hear that’s a good comfort food for people.” Ed wouldn’t know. Nobody had ever made soup for him.

“Yes. Oswald loves food.” She stirred a little more. “He got sick from working outside so much. He works at very nice club. Very important work, but sometimes they make him stand outside. My poor boy.” It occurred to Ed suddenly that Gertrud was probably not privy to the (no doubt) shadier parts of Oswald’s work. "It is finished!” She took the pot off the burner and poured the soup into a white bowl decorated with pink roses around the rim. She placed the bowl on a metal platter along with a spoon and a napkin. She thrust it into Ed’s hands and he gripped it tight so the bowl didn’t spill. “Come, let us go.”

She led the way across the living room, and into a tiny hallway with a door on each of the three walls.

She opened the right-most door and entered. “Oswald!” she greeted. Ed heard a small groan as he entered the messy room. His eyes immediately wandered over the posters on the walls, the curtains pulled closed, the clothes thrown over a chair into a ginormous pile. Black fluffy hair poking out from under a purple blanket. “Your friend has brought you a gift.”

“What.”

It wasn’t even a question, just blatant disinterest, an inquiry for the sake of social niceties. Ed could hear the congestion in his nose even in that one word.

“I’ll just leave the soup on the bedside table and let him rest,” Ed said.

Oswald immediately sat up in bed.

“You are being rude, Oswald,” Gertrud scolded. “You do not even greet Edward, who has made soup for you and come all this way.”

“Ed, what are you doing here?”

Oswald’s hair was a mess, fluffy without the gel to sharpen the bangs. He was pale and had bags under his eyes. His nose was rosy and Ed noted the extra layer of congestion the more he spoke.

“You said you were sick so I wanted to… do something nice for you.”

“Oh.”

Gertrud scoffed and turned to leave in a huff.

“She’s so melodramatic,” Oswald complained, rolling his eyes. He rearranged himself to sit up against his dark pillows. “What kind of soup did you make me?”

Ed remembered that he was holding the platter so he moved forward to rest it on the bedside table next to the water bottle and tissue box. “Regular chicken noodle soup. I don’t know what you like, so I thought that would be safe.”

“Safe,” Oswald repeated, chuckling, reaching for the soup and placing it delicately on his lap. “As if I would ever say no to food.” Ed stood awkwardly over Oswald’s bed and watched as he took a spoonful of soup into his mouth. “Mmm. It’s warm. Nice.” He smiled at the praise. “That’s good soup, Ed.”

“Thank you. Hopefully, it’ll make you feel better.”

“It already has.” He looked up at Ed and made a face. “What are you standing there for? Sit down.” He gestured with his spoon at some space on the bed. Ed hesitantly took a seat by the love of his life, afraid to make Oswald spill hot soup all over himself if he sat too suddenly.

Ed watched as Oswald ate. He ended up talking for most of the conversation, first detailing the recipe for the soup and then the _trouble_ he’d run into with the ingredients. He’d had to run to the store last minute to find decent carrots.

“That, of course, meant I had to turn off the heat so I did but I had to start again anyway. Then I had to call in to work to tell them I couldn’t come in, because I needed more time to work on the soup. I thought I’d be able to bring it to you on my way to work but it didn’t happen that way. Still, I tried to do my best and finish it at a reasonable--”

“I’m glad you came,” Oswald interrupted, smiling sleepily. “I missed you.”

“Oh.” Ed blushed. “I missed you too.”

Ed wanted to kiss him, but he figured that might not be the best idea.

“You’re sleepy,” Ed said, getting to his feet and placing the empty bowl on the platter. “You should get some rest.”

“You should call me or something,” Oswald said, voice much more congested than before. Ed helped him with his pillows so he could lie back down comfortably. Oswald nuzzled into them and grinned up at Ed. “You’re wonderful.” Ed’s face was so hot, he could be the one with the fever. “I’d ask you to stay but I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I would stay if you asked me,” Ed said, tucking Oswald in. “I would do anything for you.”

Oswald laughed weakly, obviously on the brink of sleep. “Call me later.”

“I will.” Ed hesitated for a few minutes afterward. Oswald’s eyes had closed and he was probably asleep. There wouldn’t be any consequences if he just…

He leaned over and pressed his lips to Oswald’s sweaty forehead. Then he took the platter and left the room quietly, closing the door softly behind him.

He deposited the dishes in the sink, already starting to wash them to distract himself from the fact that he had just kissed Oswald.

“Just as I thought. Oswald has eaten whole soup.”

“Every last drop,” Ed added.

“He loved it!”

“Yes, I think so.”

Gertrud stood next to him as Ed placed the dishes in the dishwasher and turned off the water. “You are in love with him, no?”

Ed sputtered, standing upright in a rush. “What?”

“You come and bring him soup, talk to him, give him a kiss--”

“You saw that?!”

“You text him all the time. His phone chimes and I say, ‘Who is that now?’ and my boy says, ‘Ed,’ everytime.”

“Does he know?” Ed asked, suddenly horrified at the thought.

“No, of course not.” Gertrud smiled fondly. “But he has feelings for you too.”

Ed bit his lip. That was wishful thinking. “How do you know?”

“A mother feels these things.”

So more wishful thinking. But who knew Oswald better than his own mother?

His own mother who didn’t even know her son worked for a mobster. _Don’t get your hopes up, fool_.

“Thank you, ma’am, for your hospitality.” Ed headed for the door. “Tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.”

He shut the door behind him and rushed out of the building, almost shocked by the icy chill of the air outside. The sting of the wind brought forth tears and he let himself cry over how utterly hopeless and desperate he was becoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of used my relatives' accents for the basis of Gertrud's accent.


	10. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are picking up so this chapter is pretty long. Hope you enjoy it <3

To reward Ed for his bravery in visiting Oswald when he was sick, Ecco arranged a lazy Sunday the next weekend for the two of them. Ed would make the food and Ecco would pick the movies and they’d spend the whole day sitting on the red velvet couch watching them. 

Ed made the healthiest versions he could of Ecco’s food requests: nachos, pizza, chicken wings. He spent several hours working in the kitchen while Ecco cleaned up the living room and set a black curtain over the window to prevent glare on the large TV screen.

All of Ecco’s film picks were horror and usually involved a killer clown or circus or an evil toy. 

Ed was initially rather intimidated by the anxiety-inducing music or the terrifying atmosphere but the monsters themselves were unrealistic. 

Ed found himself frequently muttering to Ecco, “That’s physically impossible,” or “He would be dead at that point; the blunt force trauma alone would have killed him, especially with that weapon.”

“Such a buzzkill, Eddie,” Ecco said, chewing on nachos. “You’re sucking all the fun out of it.”

“It’s just not realistic.”

Though Ed did wonder vaguely if the way the blood spurted out of one of the victims was lifelike. He watched the red burst from their neck like a geyser and they choked on the loss as they fell to the floor. If Ed did that, took one of his tiny knives and plunged it into an annoying library patron’s throat, would the blood gush like that, all over the place? Would it be that startling crimson color? When would the spurt calm down? When would the body stop twitching?

He took another bite of pizza and kept watching the movie.

* * *

 

Fate was testing him, it seemed.

Ed went to work on Monday and had to somehow scrape gum off from where someone had stuck in between the pages of a copy of  _ Frankenstein _ without tearing the paper. In the end, he couldn’t manage it so he had to order a replacement and he angrily applied a charge to the card of the last person who’d checked it out. 

A mother brought her four tiny children to the library but instead of letting them quietly play in the children’s area clearly set aside from the rest of the clientele, she dragged them with her to the mystery section, where they sobbed and whined and cried as loudly as they could, clinging to her cardigan.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Ed said softly. “This is a library. Could you try to keep your kids quiet, please?”

“Don’t tell me how to parent,” she snapped, shooing her bawling monsters into the next aisle.

He had to fetch Essen after that and Essen kindly--and wearily, like usual--asked the woman to leave, and she did, but only after threatening to sue them for unfair treatment of mothers.

At ten in the morning, Ed walked into the usually vacant reference section just to find a girl on her knees in front of her boyfriend. Ed immediately put a hand in front of his eyes as soon as he glimpsed what they were doing, and replaced the book he’d come to put away. “Please don’t do that here,” he pleaded, before turning swiftly out of the aisle and returning to the front desk.

Several elderly patrons yelled at him about the charges on their cards for overdue books, claiming he was scamming them  _ personally _ , as if the twenty-five cents per day was a profit.

For some reason, lazy patrons liked to take books off the shelves and then put them back in the incorrect section, so Ed did his rounds looking for anything out of place and dutifully replacing all missorted books.

One man was trying to find a novel by Nabokov on the computer but kept misspelling his name. Ed assured him they had the title but the author’s name was spelled N-A-B-O-K-O-V, not N-A-B-A-K-O-F-F. The man yelled at him for “getting smart”, a phrase Ed despised and always had. 

He bit his tongue before he could retort, “I’m only getting smart because you’re an imbecile.”

Instead, he went to fetch the title himself, shoving a copy of  _ Pale Fire  _ into the man’s hands before he started a fit.

At noon, Ed was unloading the book cart, sorting the novels into their proper places, fuming. 

There was a hardly a patron he wouldn’t happily decapitate at that moment. 

“Excuse me, sir,” someone said on the other side of the shelf. Ed knew that voice. “I’m looking for a book. Anne Rice.  _ The Vampire Lestat _ . I don’t suppose you have that?”

Ed peeked over the books to try and make eye contact with the person. “Oswald?” he tried when he couldn’t find him due to being too tall.

A book shoved into Ed’s face and he struggled to catch it and the one behind it--some young adult romance novels--while also maintaining his balance. When he looked again, Oswald was grinning at him from the gap the books had left.

“Hello, sir,” he said. “You’ve been most unhelpful. I’m gonna leave a terrible review on Yelp.”

“You’re certainly not going to find  _ The Vampire Lestat  _ in the YA section,” Ed said, feeling every ounce of anger fade away at Oswald’s sudden appearance. “You should look in the Paranormal Romance section, the Adult shelves.”

“You look very refined in that sweater,” Oswald commented, breaking character. “Argyle suits you.”

Ed flushed. “Oh. Thank you.”

Oswald winked and then disappeared from view, only to turn into Ed’s aisle and pluck a novel off the top shelf. “ _ The Chronicles of Vladimir Tod _ ,” he read aloud. “I used to read these.”

Ed observed the cover. There was a silhouette of a kid wearing a hoodie. “I’m not surprised.”

“Vampire books,” Oswald said, sliding the book back into place. “Speaking of, fetch me my  _ Lestat _ this instant.” He made a show of pouting and crossing his arms.

“My apologies, sir,” Ed said perfunctorily, his smile genuine, unlike how it was with other patrons. “I’ll find it for you immediately. Follow me, please.” He replaced the two books Oswald had knocked off the shelf and headed for the Adult section to find “Rice, Anne” on the shelves.

He picked up the nicest copy of  _ The Vampire Lestat _ and placed it delicately in Oswald’s hands, clad in fingerless gloves and neat black nail polish. “Will that be all, sir?”

Oswald bit his lip as he looked up at him and, for the first time, Ed was struck with how much of a height difference they had. And, despite that, it would take nothing at all to bend lower and kiss--

“Do you have any other vampire books that you’d recommend?”

Ed cleared his throat to snap himself back into reality. He tried to wrack his brain for anything that seemed gothic that he might have sorted in the past week or so. “There’s a few new romance novels that feature a vampire hero,” he offered. 

Oswald chuckled. “Yeah, I need to get my hands on one of those spicy books. Do they bite during the love scenes, you think?”

Ed tried to will the blush off his cheeks but it didn’t work. “Uh… um… I’m not sure…”

“Jesus, Ed, I’m joking.” Oswald elbowed him. “Of course they do.”

Ed tried to catch his breath without heaving, while Oswald flipped through the book in his hands. 

“Anne, Anne, Anne,” he scolded under his breath. “Should’ve made this one sexier.”

“Is that one not up to your standards?” Ed asked.

Oswald smirked, not looking up from his book. “ _ Interview with a Vampire _ is better. Of course.”

“Did you want that one? We have more of them in stock, actually.”

“I own it. It’s one of the few books I actually own.” He tucked the book into the large hoodie pocket at his front. “I’m not much of a reader. I spend time on better things.”

Ed knew Oswald was smart. He  _ could  _ be a reader. Instead, he went to clubs and took drugs and had meaningless sex with  _ stupid bald bartenders who didn’t care about him properly _ and Ed’s heart clenched at the waste of potential.

“You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he said softly. 

Oswald snorted. “Me? You must not know many smart people then.” He turned around and started walking to the front desk. “I just have street smarts. Check the book out for me?” He held it up and turned his head a bit to make eye contact. Ed nodded and ran to catch up with him.

“You don’t only have street smarts. You’re incredibly intelligent. You should be told this all the time, really--”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I wanna be an engineer or something. That kind of stuff isn’t for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Ed replied, going behind the counter. He took Oswald’s book and scanned it. “Intelligence shouldn’t be measured by how much math or science you know. Uh. Library card?”

Oswald blinked at him. “What?”

“Your library card? You can’t check a book out without one.”

“Oh. I don’t have one.”

“That’s fine, I can get you one.” He bent over to fetch a form from under the counter. “Fill this out and I can put your information in the computer and give you a brand new library card.” Oswald took a pen out of the cup Ed had by the computer. Ed stared as Oswald scribbled with it, knowing that he had bitten at its cap and now it was in Oswald’s hand. 

“So what makes someone smart then? In your opinion?”

“Chesterfield?” Ed read off the form where Oswald was writing. “That’s an interesting middle name.”

“My dad’s wish,” Oswald huffed. “My mom thinks it’s stuffy but it’s in his honor or whatever.”

“I like it.” Oswald made a face. “I mean it. And… you’re good at problem-solving on the spot. You’re adaptive and resourceful and strategic and that makes you  _ intelligent _ , Oswald. Even if you don’t see it.”

Oswald was silent for a while. He finally pushed the form forward. “Finished,” he said, resting the cap of the pen against his bottom lip absentmindedly. Ed’s stomach flipped. Another kiss across time. It was the closest he’d ever get.

Ed input the information onto the computer and clicked “print” for the machine to make a new card. 

“I came to ask you something,” Oswald said. Ed immediately tensed. This couldn’t be a good thing. Oswald capped the pen and put it back in the cup. “There’s a stupid carnival that comes to Gotham every year and sets up in the park and I always go with Ivy and Ecco and a few other friends. Would you wanna come with us this year?”

Ed mulled it over. Oswald didn’t have to say anything about it. Ecco had already brought up the carnival during the circus movie they watched yesterday. Surely Oswald knew that Ecco--clown extraordinaire--would have said something already? Unless he was just making sure that Ed was coming because he actually wanted Ed to come? Because maybe Gertrud had been correct in saying that her son had feelings for him?

Ed focused on ripping the card out of the plastic and handing it to Oswald. 

“Of course I’ll go with you,” he answered, and it didn’t matter if Oswald thought the “you” referred to the whole group when Ed only meant him,  _ just him,  _ forever.

“Great,” Oswald said, and he sounded happy, and he  _ looked  _ happy. Ed hated that he was  _ hoping _ .

“Did you think I had anything better to do?” Ed teased.

Oswald rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, maybe you had a thing about carnivals. What would I know?”

“I’ve never been, actually,” Ed confessed. “But I’m sure I’ll have a good time.”

“I’ll make sure you do.”

Ed checked the book out for him and waved at him as Oswald backed away to the door. Oswald waved back.

Ed’s heart fluttered and his smile didn’t fade, not even when Oswald left, not even when the library patrons harassed him and bullied him and inconvenienced him. He went to sleep smiling, lying in bed and thinking of how maybe-- _ just maybe _ \--Oswald liked him too.

* * *

 

Ecco had a dress planned for the carnival, and she did her makeup special that day. Her hair was wilder than usual, crimped and held in two buns on the top of her head. Her dress was poofy and striped, as she preferred.

Ed wore a sweater and jeans, to maximize comfort on a busy day.

The carnival coming at the end of March was odd, because the winter chill hadn’t entirely left the city. It would probably be more profitable to host the event during a sunny and warm summer, but, then again, Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being sunny and warm.

Ivy wore a cozy ensemble, complete with a big green turtleneck sweater. They met up at the entrance to the park, which had been closed off with a metal gate. The only person left to join was Oswald.

When he finally appeared, he looked handsome as usual, wearing the fingerless gloves Ed liked so much, the ones that emphasized the shape of his fingers. Unfortunately, he didn’t come alone.

“You’ve met Victor before, right, Ed?”

Victor, the bald bartender that Ed  _ despised _ , was wearing a leather jacket and he looked confident and handsome and he and Oswald probably had a lot in common, like being weird and liking black--

“Yeah, I remember you. You were totally wasted that one time at the club!”

Ed’s face heated in shame. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking at the asphalt below in embarrassment.

“Leave him alone,” Ivy scolded. “He was new to the party scene then. He’s a little better with his drinks now.”

“I’m not poking fun,” Victor defended. “I thought he was pretty hilarious.”

“Victor demanded he come along because he wants to win a unicorn from the ring-toss booth,” Oswald deadpanned, looking thoroughly annoyed. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t get it last year but I’ve been practicing.”

Ecco giggled. “You were practicing a ring-toss?”

“I’ve mastered the art of it now. I could win a hundred unicorns.”

Ivy snorted. “I bet you won’t even get one.”

Ed had known this wouldn’t--couldn’t--be a date. They would be with Ivy and Ecco, after all. But having Victor there was  _ worse _ . Victor had kissed Oswald and  _ touched  _ him and Ed couldn’t stand to see them talk and joke like they had known each other forever (like they were in love).

Ed was in love but he hadn’t had the pleasure of a single kiss.

But he wouldn’t complain or let it show that Victor’s presence was bothering him.

If he glared at him the whole time, that was unrelated.

They bought their tickets and immediately rushed to the ring-toss to watch Victor’s attempt at winning the unicorn.

He prepared the rings in his hand with concentration, but Ed wasn’t paying attention. He stood stubbornly next to Oswald, rejoicing when their arms brushed on occasion and Oswald would glance up at him with a sweet smile on his face.

They all cheered when Victor won a huge pink unicorn that he struggled to carry and that clashed entirely with his outfit. 

“I’m gonna go shove this in a locker,” Victor said, heading off.

The rest of them discussed the itinerary. Ecco wanted to ride the roller coaster, but Oswald insisted that he couldn’t because of his leg.

“Just one ride, Ozzie,  _ please _ !” Ecco pleaded, clasping his hands. He rolled his eyes and conceded.

“One.”

When Victor met up with them again, he was still carrying the unicorn. “The locker was too small for her,” he complained. 

They stood in line for the roller coaster for some time, hearing the horrible screaming of the other riders as they made their hellishly quick descent down the rickety tracks. 

“Is this safe?” Ed asked Ecco, who shrugged.

“It’s safe,” Ivy chimed in. “They have to get it tested or else they wouldn’t be allowed to set up.”

“As if Gotham City Government would care if a roller coaster set up without proper regulation,” Oswald commented snidely. 

“I saw on the news once that a roller coaster crashed and flew off the rails and all the people died,” Victor said absently, petting his unicorn’s glittery mane.

Ed gulped.

“Awesome,” Ecco whispered.

“Don’t worry, Ed,” Ivy said, patting his shoulder. “The chances of something like that happening are miniscule.”

“But it’s possible,” Ed argued.

Ivy hesitated. “Well,  _ yeah _ , but--”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go on it.”

They were nearing the front of the line. 

“Better make your decision fast,” Ecco warned. “We’re gonna have to decide how we wanna sit.”

“It’s rows of two,” Ivy said. 

“I have to sit next to my unicorn,” Victor said.

“You’re taking that thing on the roller coaster?” Oswald asked.

“What else do I do with it?”

“Alright, and I wanna sit next to Ivy,” Ecco said, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand. “So Eddie and Ozzie can sit together.”

“Sure,” Oswald said, just as Ed excitedly nodded.

A car slowly stopped in front of them on the tracks and unloaded, the riders red in the face from adrenaline.

With the teenage assistant’s help, they loaded into the car. 

The seat was uncomfortable and hard, but Ed’s knee had no choice but to press against Oswald’s, so he didn’t complain. They were then secured into place by a heavy black lapbar.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the teenager said to Victor. “You can’t ride with that. You can give it to us and we’ll hold onto it for you until the ride’s over.”

“How do I know you won’t steal it?” Victor asked suspiciously, hugging his unicorn close to him.

“Why would I steal it?” The teenager looked exasperated.

Ivy leaned over to gently pet Victor’s head. “Vickie, babe, just give him the unicorn and you’ll see her again in a few minutes.”

Victor whined but surrendered his toy, his shirt thoroughly covered in glitter. He ended up being sat next to a middle-aged man in a Hawaiian shirt.

“You’re still nervous?” Oswald asked. Ed turned to him with a start.

“Oh. Yes.”

“Me too,” Oswald admitted. “They really hurt my leg but I actually just hate the drops.”

“I’ve never been on a roller coaster before.”

Oswald smiled sympathetically and took Ed’s hand in his. “Here. Squeeze it all you want during the ride. It’ll give you something to ground yourself to.”

Ed nodded enthusiastically, returning the grip on his hand.

“Alright, folks,” the teenager said on the P.A. system. “Keep your arms and legs inside of the vehicle at all times.” He talked fast and Ed could hardly hear him over how fast his own heart was beating. “Enjoy the ride!”

With a clack, the car started moving on the track, and Ed watched as the tracks led upward to a giant patch of sky. They were approaching the drop. He hated the anticipation so he shut his eyes and gripped Oswald’s hand as tight as he could. Oswald held it back and Ed tried to focus on the lovely feeling of the gloves against his skin when the car dipped forward and suddenly they were were falling very fast. 

Ed’s eyes opened and he realized he was shrieking. The car threw itself all along the track, rushing in every direction, dipping and diving, curving and twisting, until it finally slowed down and clicked back into place at the start.

“Folks, please exit to the left of the ride and make sure to pick up all items. Thank you and have a great day,” the teenager announced, sounding half-hearted in his forced enthusiasm. 

The lapbar lifted out of place and Oswald let go of Ed’s hand to exit the car. Ed’s hand was sweaty from the hold but he still missed it, wanted Oswald’s warmth back. He wordlessly followed Oswald out of the car.

“God, that was hell on my leg,” Oswald groaned, leaning over to rub it. “But it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Ed nodded in agreement even though he never wanted to get on a roller coaster again.

Unless Oswald offered to hold his hand.

Victor got his unicorn back unharmed, but he still examined it to make sure it was in the exact condition he’d left it in.

Next, they went on a tulip ride, something Ivy requested. They were rotating cars designed to look like giant tulip bulbs that moved in circles at the speed controlled by the people on the ride. All five of them fit in just fine, with Victor’s unicorn seated in his lap. Ed sat between Oswald and Ecco and realized they were both fond of spinning the tulip as fast as possible, fighting to spin the wheel in the center.

They had lunch after that, chicken tenders and milkshakes and churros, sitting at a picnic table and planning other rides.

They went on all sorts of rides, none as horrifying as the first roller coaster. 

There was a haunted house and Ed was initially excited to go in.

However, knowing that they were all machines and actors didn’t stop Ed from yelping in surprise at every jumpscare. He wanted to cling to Ecco’s arm, since she was so nice to him and seemed unfazed by the horrors of the attraction, but she was busy holding hands with her girlfriend, who was shaking at her side and was far more scared than Ed was. Oswald and Victor were not as affected by the haunted house, both tough as nails. Ed decided to walk alone with his head held up high in the house until a skull dropped down on a string in front of him and he screamed, practically jumping into Oswald’s arms.

“Oh, God, Ed,” he said, patting his head. “It’s not real.”

Ed knew that. He backed away from Oswald, humiliated, but Oswald grabbed his hand again. 

“It’s okay,” he whispered reassuringly. “Just keep walking and try to anticipate them.” They walked in tandem. “Around the corner, something’s gonna pop out, just watch.” They turned the corner and, just as he’d predicted, a man jumped out at them, dressed in a hood and brandishing a knife. Ed only jumped a little, eased by the knowledge that the scare was coming. 

He giggled in relief.

“See, not so bad, right?” 

Ed nodded with a smile.

Somehow they exited the house in one piece. Oswald’s predictions had eased Ed on their walk around the house, which was lucky for him because Ecco had teased her girlfriend for being a scaredy cat as soon as they left the doors.

“Nobody held  _ my  _ hand,” Victor pouted, clutching his unicorn close to his chest.

“You weren’t scared,” Oswald argued. 

Yet, despite the fact that they were out of the house and Ed wasn’t scared anymore, Oswald didn’t let go of his hand.

* * *

 

After they had a few turns on the carousel (Ed had picked a green horse next to Ecco’s black one), they had dinner and funnel cakes.

After that, the group split up. Ivy wanted to hang out with her friend, Selina, for a bit, and Victor and Ecco wanted to ride the roller coaster as many times as they could. That left Ed and Oswald standing in the center of the carnival, looking at a map together for something to do.

Oswald had long ago let go of Ed’s hand, when they went to eat dinner. Ed mourned the loss, but not as much as he rejoiced the fact that he had memorized the feeling of their hands intertwined.

“What do you wanna do?” Oswald asked.

“Do you want to try one of those contests, like Victor did? The ring-toss or the shooting? Maybe get a stuffed animal?”

Oswald shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t win anything.”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed. He was abysmal at physical games. 

“There’s a Ferris wheel,” Oswald said. “Let’s go on that.”

It was getting dark and the Ferris wheel was glowing with lights. It was the best time to ride it and yet most families had gone home to get their small kids to bed. As a result, there was no line.

The worker opened the gate and led them to the seats. 

They sat next to each other and waited for the ride to start. 

“Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel?” Oswald asked.

“No. I’ve never been on any rides.”

His mother had been adamant--as a doctor--that carnivals and theme parks were filthy and diseased, filled with people throwing up and spreading germs. Ed knew that was just an excuse, though. He was refused everytime he asked to go to Metropoland because his parents were uninterested and didn’t want to spend the money on him. Disease was just a convenient justification.

“I think you’ll like it,” Oswald said. “They’re slow.”

And with that, the wheel started to move and Ed watched from the side of the car as they moved up into the sky. The carnival below them turned small and the lights of the city glimmered. 

“Wow.” 

And then he couldn’t think about anything at all because Oswald was holding his hand again over the seat. There was nothing to be afraid of, no approaching drop, no actors in costumes, but Oswald had still taken his hand.

Ed couldn’t help but be certain now.

Oswald  _ had  _ to like him back.

He squeezed his hand gently as they descended backward, slowly. 

They went around a few times, both giggling all the while, because being in the air was exhilarating and holding hands was pure bliss.

They finally decided to get off the wheel and get some cotton candy, a final activity before they met with the others and went home.

They split the cotton candy because they agreed that they couldn’t eat a whole one each. 

They sat on a bench and took turns taking bites. Oswald got a bit on his nose and, when Ed called attention to it, he glowered and got it off. 

They were just finishing when Ecco and Victor joined them. Both of their faces were bright red and Ecco’s hair was a mess--more than it had been already.

“Wow, what a rush!” Ecco exclaimed, sitting on the bench on Ed’s other side and pulling him in for a hug. “Shame you missed it, you two.”

“My leg,” Oswald reminded her.

“An excuse!” Ecco protested. “Your leg’s fine after the time you went on earlier, isn’t it?”

“I plead the fifth,” Oswald said, bemused.

“Douchebag.”

Victor sat on Oswald’s other side, resting his head on Oswald’s shoulder.

Ed’s broiling jealousy evaporated when Oswald shrugged him off. “Get off me. Your stupid head is heavy.”

Victor whined but obeyed.

Ivy finally reappeared with two other people: a girl with outrageously curly hair and a serious-looking boy with dark eyes.

“Hi, guys!” She gestured to her friends. “Eddie, these are Selina and Bruce, my friends.”

Ed held up a hand to wave, having just eaten his last bite of cotton candy. They waved back somewhat unenthusiastically.

“Hey, Cat,” Oswald said.

“S’up, Penguin,” Selina replied.

“Nice to meet you,” Bruce said, ignoring them. 

“Anyway, we gotta split,” Selina said with a shrug. “Bruce said Alfred and Lucius still wanna go on the Ferris wheel and we wanna see if they kiss at the top.”

“You’re just saying that because you want me to kiss  _ you _ at the top,” Bruce jabbed.

“Ew.” She made a face. “You wish.”

“Is that a custom?” Ed asked. “Why kiss at the top?”

“That’s why you go on a Ferris wheel,” Ecco explained. “I mean, they’re kinda boring. Unless you’re a little kid and you wanna go up high, you only go on a Ferris wheel if you wanna make out somewhere romantic.”

Ed’s face caught on fire.

“Oh.”

“Ferris wheels are cool,” Oswald protested. “They’re not boring. You can see the whole park from up there. It’s beautiful.”

“What, you two went on it?” VIctor asked.

“Yeah, we went a few turns.”

“And you didn’t kiss?” Ecco sounded furious. “You’re supposed to kiss on a Ferris wheel, you  _ morons _ ! It’s tradition!”

“It’s not tradition,” Oswald argued. “Stop making stuff up.”

Ed remembered vividly that Oswald had been the one to propose going on the Ferris wheel. He had held Ed’s hand once they reached the top. Maybe he had wanted to kiss up there?

Ed let them bicker, no longer paying attention to anything other than the swelling of his stomach and the beating of his heart.

They didn’t even notice how much he was grinning.


	11. Violet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I first came up with when formulating this fic. This has been a long time coming so I'm over the moon that I finally got here. <3

Ed woke up the next Thursday with a headache. 

It was far too early to do much about work, so he took some aspirin for his head and laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The cheap paint job left tiny cracks in the corners, broken swirls of cream. 

He’d had time since he moved in to make the room his own. His closet was neat and organized, as it ought to be, since he had very few items of clothing. He had some books that he took home from work lined up on the crooked writing-desk in the corner of the tiny room. They had ripped spines and torn pages and coffee stains and stickers on top of stickers on top of where the hard covers had been laminated. He liked to read them before bed and fall asleep with the smell of the yellowing pages under his nose. 

Other than a few added touches, the room was somewhat barren and unimpressive. It almost looked un-lived in.

When his headache subsided somewhat, Ed made his bed and changed into a sweater and jeans--the nice argyle sweater that Oswald had complimented and the dark jeans Ecco had selected--before heading to the kitchen to make some coffee and cook breakfast.

Ecco worked later and was probably asleep, but Ed made her scrambled eggs anyway, serving it on a plate and squeezing ketchup on it the way she liked. He personally thought ketchup ruined the flavor of the eggs, but to each their own. 

He headed for her room with coffee and plate of eggs in hand.

He entered and saw that she was not asleep. She was in her large bed with Ivy, holding hands and giggling softly under the faint morning light.

“Oh, sorry,” Ed said, looking pointedly away. “I should have knocked.”

“Good morning, Ed,” Ivy said sleepily. 

“Eddie!” Ecco laughed. “We’re not naked, you can look.”

Ed looked back up at them and held up the coffee and eggs. “I made you breakfast, Ecco. I didn’t know Ivy was here or else I’d have made more eggs.”

“That’s alright,” Ivy said. “I don’t eat eggs. I wouldn’t mind some coffee though, if you have any more?”

Ed grinned. “Of course.” Ecco and Ivy both sat up in bed and Ecco took her mug and plate gratefully, immediately gulping down the coffee. 

“You sweetened it like I like!” she chirped excitedly.

She liked six to seven spoonfuls of sugar and a great deal of milk and once Ed got the ratio right, he was determined to make it properly for her each time.

“Yes,” he agreed. He walked back to the kitchen, already planning Ivy’s coffee and measuring in his mind the perfect amount of sugar to add to the beverage. 

He brought her the coffee and a plate of toast with jam just in case she was hungry.

“Oh, Ed,” Ivy said softly. “You’re so sweet. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” Ed said. Today was an important day. In theory. If nothing else, he wanted to make it special for  _ them _ , even if he never said anything about it. “You two are my first friends. That I’ve ever had. I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Eddie, we love you so much!” Ecco exclaimed, placing her mug on the bedside table and the plate aside so she could jump forward and embrace him. “I’m so happy you’re our friend!”

Ivy nodded ecstatically in agreement. “You’re a joy to be around, really.”

Ed hugged Ecco back, afraid that he was going to start crying. No tears today.

“Thank you,” he whispered, nervous that if he spoke louder his voice would crack.

* * *

 

Essen avoided him at work.

As soon as he entered the library, she looked up to the door and quickly walked away, avoiding eye contact. She made for her office and shut the door tightly. 

“What was that about?” Ed asked, but Kristen shrugged.

“You do something to piss her off?”

Ed tried to think of something, but Essen had been friendly with him for his last shift, informing him that she had submitted the request to change the sign on the shelves from “chick lit” to “romance”. Perhaps she had been rejected and was afraid of sharing the bad news.

“I’m sure she’ll come around,” Kristen said, patting his shoulder.

Ed worked excitedly throughout the day, helping people eagerly despite their often cruel treatment of him. 

During their lunch break, Ed gave Kristen a red velvet cupcake. 

“What’s this?” she asked, bewildered.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’ve been a great friend to me, and I wanted to show my appreciation for you.”

“Ed, this is so sweet.” Kristen delicately picked up the cupcake. “Thank you so much. And you got red velvet too--how did you know that’s my favorite flavor?”

“You’ve mentioned it.”

She smiled and began to eat it. Ed continued his own lunch, happy that this day was going as he’d planned.

He’d made a dozen cupcakes and had taken four of them with him to work. He left the rest at Ecco’s apartment with a note that she could have them.

He wanted to give Essen her cupcake in person. This was somewhat difficult to manage since she hadn’t emerged from her office since Ed had initially spotted her. At the end of his shift at three o’clock, Ed knocked on her door and waited patiently until she opened it a crack, peeking through as if she was terrified. 

She always looked weary but she looked particularly exhausted today, hair in her face and bags under her eyes. “Hi, Ed,” she said tightly.

“I wanted to give you this cupcake,” Ed said, holding it out to her. “To thank you for giving me this job and for giving me a chance. You’ve been very helpful in my… uh… transition to Gotham and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you.”

“Oh.” Essen accepted the cupcake with no small amount of hesitation. “I see. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”

“I--I suppose.” She smiled, releasing a soft exhale. “You’re welcome, Ed. You’ve… You have been a great employee.”

Ed grinned at the praise. “Have a wonderful day.”

Essen did not reply. Her smile vanished, in fact, and she nodded once before shutting the door again.

Ed was perturbed but didn’t want to linger on it. 

It probably wasn’t important.

* * *

 

Ed waited at the bus stop for Oswald’s bus, excited.

This was  _ the day _ , after all.

If it wasn’t important in and of itself (as it perhaps  _ should  _ have been), then he would  _ make  _ it important.

The bus stopped in front of his bench and he watched as a couple people got off before he spotted a black hoodie and spiky gelled hair.

“Oswald!” he exclaimed, moving forward to meet him.

“Hi,” Oswald answered, beaming. “You wanted to have dinner or something? You have a place in mind?”

“I, uh,” Ed stammered, trying to collect his thoughts. “I actually wanted to spend the rest of the day with you, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, as long as this isn’t some kind of April Fool’s Joke.”

Ed took them first to a fountain downtown. 

The fountain was sturdy cement but it was chipping in some places. Ed took a penny from his pocket and cast it into the water, wishing eagerly that  _ Oswald would love him back _ .

He’d fallen in love with Oswald after all, and he was almost certain Oswald felt similarly. It wouldn’t hurt to wish, anyway.

Oswald threw in a penny too but didn’t share what he wished for, just looked to Ed with a finger over his lips. “It’s a secret. If you share, it won’t come true.”

For all his talk about horror films being unrealistic, Ed couldn’t help but believe in wishes and fate. If Oswald’s mother was correct about everyone having one true love, then Ed’s was Oswald. That was fate’s design, that his heart should belong to Oswald and it had since they had met the first time in Ecco’s store.

So he didn’t share and he didn’t ask Oswald to share.

They sat on one of the benches together, watching as children splashed around the water and pigeons fluttered in circles on the ground.

This could be a romantic enough spot to confess, to say how he felt and lean in to kiss.

But it wasn’t what he had planned.

They sat there for some time in silence, Ed bolstering the courage to reach over and take Oswald’s hand. It took him a few minutes, but he finally managed it, running his fingertips over the back of Oswald’s hand until their fingers were interlocked. 

Then Ed gave him one of the last cupcakes, the nicer one. “This is for you.”

Oswald observed it for a moment before taking it. “Thank you, Ed.”

“No, I’m thanking  _ you, _ ” Ed corrected. “You’ve been so wonderful to me since I’ve met you and I owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Ed.” 

_ I owe you everything. _ “I just want to show you that I appreciate you.”

Oswald smiled, a tiny, sweet thing. He unwrapped the cupcake and took a bite, a little bit of frosting catching on his nose. Ed gestured to it and Oswald rubbed it off. 

Ed ate the other cupcake and they sat in silence for a while longer.

* * *

 

The next spot on the list was going to a pizza place for dinner. Ed was insistent on treating this time, since Oswald had done it all the times before.

“Valentine’s, huh?” Oswald said as they took their seats. “I’ve never been here before.”

The restaurant was in the lot behind the library, almost hidden from the populace. It was grimy and shady and dark, and Ed thought it seemed just like Oswald’s kind of spot.

“I hope you like it.” The wooden tables lacked cloths and were covered in marks and scratches. The candles were fake and only one of the hanging lamps in the whole place actually had a functioning light bulb. The chairs were mismatched, the heating system was broken, and the service was abysmal. “I went here once with a friend from work to try it out and she hated it. I thought it had a certain charm to it, though.”

Oswald grinned as he looked around the place. “I have to agree with you. It is right up my alley.”

Ed blushed, happy that he had gotten this right.

They ordered their food and ate over fake candlelight. The pizza was amazing, overlooked due to the uninviting atmosphere of the restaurant. The wait for the food had been long, despite the lack of other customers. By the time they left the restaurant, it was dark.

“That was  _ incredible _ , Ed,” Oswald gushed. “I might have to come here once a week or something.”

_ Take me with you _ . “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Ed could kiss him there, outside the restaurant, under the glowing neon lights of the “open” sign in Valentine’s window. That wasn’t the plan, though, so he kept walking.

They walked in the dark for some time, Oswald talking about his work and Ed complaining about his. Oswald worked for Fish Mooney, who--Oswald begrudgingly confessed--was maybe dirtier with crime than speculation suggested. 

“I’m not a bartender or a bouncer, just an umbrella boy.”

“What’s an umbrella boy?”

Oswald laughed. “It’s not  _ anything _ . It means I hold her umbrella when it rains.  _ But _ , it also means I sit in on all her business deals and I act as her most trustworthy confidant. If anything goes awry at Mooney’s, above ground or underground, I’m the first to know. A drugs deal? I’m there. Our liquor supplier is being ran out of business? I deal with it. I do way too much so I’m just an umbrella boy.”

Ed wanted to argue that Oswald wasn’t “just” anything. He was everything, the whole world. But he didn’t say any of that. He just listened.

And then Oswald listened.

“Sometimes I just want to wring their necks,” Ed said after ranting about the library patrons for a few minutes. 

Oswald chuckled. “I’d help you hide the bodies,” he promised. “If you ever snap, just call me.”

Ed grinned. It was just a joke, but somehow it meant so much more.

They walked for so long that Ed was losing track of his schedule. It wasn’t written in stone by any means since he knew something might interrupt or interfere at any moment, but there were some stops he wanted to make before this night came to an inevitable end.

“Do you need to buy any cigarettes?” he asked, seeing the green and red lights of Ecco’s store approaching. “We should get you a pack.”

“Alright,” Oswald said. “I mean I have some, but sure.”

They entered the store and Ed exhaled with relief when the familiar sound of the automated bell rang through the store. Ecco was behind the counter, scrolling through an app on her phone. She looked up when she heard the bell, probably to recite some half-hearted welcome, but when she saw Ed and Oswald, her face lit up.

“Oh, Eddie!” she exclaimed, running around the counter to hug him. “You left me so many cupcakes! You’re an angel!”

Ed returned the hug. “I hope you enjoy them, Ecco. Don’t eat them all at once.”

“Oh.” Ecco pulled away, suddenly bashful. “I already did.”

“Ecco!” Ed scolded.

“I’m just kidding! I only ate two and then I had to go to work! Speaking of, you two are lucky you got me. It’s almost the end of my shift!” She kissed Ed quickly on the cheek and winked at him before returning to her place behind the counter. “What’ll it be tonight, boys?”

“A pack of Pall Malls for Oswald,” Ed said. “And two slurpees.”

“Help yourselves,” she said, gesturing to the slurpee station in the back of the store.

Oswald took the largest cup again and poured the Coca Cola slurpee into it, humming a tune under his breath. Ed took the smallest cup and observed his options. They were all colorful and boldly advertised, even promising “natural and artificial flavors”. Ed decided that he might as well take a chance on something so he poured himself the Blue Raspberry--most certainly fake since the actual Whitebark Raspberry was not so vivid a blue.

Oswald handed him a straw for his slurpee, a violet one, and he stuck a green straw in his own drink. 

“They invented this flavor to help differentiate ice pops by color. Did you know that? I find it fascinating. It was originally just a red raspberry, but--”

“I didn’t know that,” Oswald interrupted. “But we should buy our things and go so Ecco can get off her shift.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” 

Ed made sure to pay for the cigarettes and slurpees.

“Good luck,” Ecco whispered to him, sliding his change back. “I believe in you.”

Ed blushed, humiliated that his plan was so transparent. But if Ecco believed in him, that was just further proof that he might be successful.

He sat with Oswald on the curb outside the store, sitting on the precipice of light and darkness, sipping at their slurpees.

“You wanna try each other’s?” Oswald asked, offering his drink.

Ed had long ago forgotten his hang ups about touch and hygiene when it came to Oswald Cobblepot. He offered his own cup and they sipped at each other’s straws, kissing in cosmic tandem.

But maybe it wouldn’t be the closest he could get.

Ed wasn’t paying attention to the flavor of Oswald’s drink, more preoccupied with savoring the moment for what it was: another quick and insignificant intimacy.

They pulled off the straws at the same time, after only a few seconds of sipping. 

“Yeah, blue raspberry definitely tastes made up,” Oswald commented with a laugh. Ed agreed full-heartedly.

They continued to drink their slurpees and Oswald lit a cigarette. They sat there, on the filthy ground covered in gum and wrappers and mysterious stains, watching as the store lights flickered and an occasional car parked in the lot, only to take off again a few minutes later. 

Ecco left after a few minutes, grasping a slurpee of her own--probably cherry, Ed mused--and she waved at them before heading in the direction of her…  _ their _ … apartment.

“Is my tongue blue?” Ed asked, sticking it out for Oswald to see in the white light of the store.

“Yeah,” Oswald replied, giggling. “Is mine black?” He stuck his own tongue out and Ed leaned in to see.

“A bit,” he said. “I suppose the blue dye is stronger than the Coca Cola one.”

They giggled together, even though it wasn’t that funny. They sipped and stared at each other in a silent race, and at the same time, they groaned and held their heads due to brain freeze.

Ed wanted to kiss him. That had been the plan, to kiss him where they’d first met, and to tell him that he’d loved him since he’d first seen him.  _ I would do anything for you. I love you. Love me back. _

He didn’t say that, though. He didn’t lean in over their slurpees to kiss Oswald’s mouth. 

He sat like a coward on the curb, sipping at his blue drink and pretending like he had nothing planned after that. 

Oswald finished his drink at the same time he finished his cigarette, butting it out on the curb and disposing of it in the cup. He grabbed both their cups and got to his feet, throwing them out in the trash can behind them.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said, holding out his hand for Ed to take. He helped him to his feet but didn’t let go of his hand, and they walked toward the apartment together, intertwined.

Ed struggled to  _ out with it _ already. 

_ I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love-- _

“This was a great night,” Oswald said, gripping Ed’s hand tighter. “Spending time with you always makes everything else seem small.” His voice was soft. “I didn’t think there was anything ahead of me before I met you.”

Ed gasped and quickly covered his mouth with his free hand in embarrassment. “W--what do you mean?”

“I mean, all I ever did was the same motions over and over again, but… being with you is different. It has meaning now. It’s all different.”

They were at the gas station across the street from the apartment. Oswald stopped walking and Ed did too, face growing hotter at every passing second despite the April chill. 

Oswald grabbed Ed by the lapels of his coat and pulled him into a gentle kiss. 

It was far too brief. Oswald let go and exhaled softly. Ed could feel his lungs straining in his chest and was slow to realize it was because Oswald had stolen his breath away. He leaned back in to get it back.

Oswald was smiling against his mouth and Ed smiled too, placing his hands on either side of Oswald’s face to keep him in place. 

It didn’t matter that they were kissing under the dim, hazy lights of a gas station, or that it was cold. Ed was blinded and sweating anyway, because this was his first kiss and it was with the love of his life.

_ I love you _ still hadn’t slipped out his mouth but he didn’t want to break the kiss to say it, in fear Oswald would stop. He kept silent except to moan when Oswald licked into his mouth because he tasted like Coca Cola and cigarettes and  _ spit _ . 

Ed ran his hand through his hair but it was stiff from the gel. 

“We should,” Oswald said, breaking away a litte, voice short of breath. “We should go somewhere.”

“The apartment is right there.”

They ran across the street, holding hands and giggling. This was the happiest Ed had ever been. He felt like his heart was glowing bright violet and it might burst from the way Oswald was gripping his hand and smiling at him.

Ed wasn’t paying attention when they went up the stairwell or went through the hall on the third floor. He was too busy kissing Oswald, but he did hear Ecco talking to someone in the kitchen when they entered.

“Shh,” he said, gently closing the door so they wouldn’t be heard. He held a finger to his lips and Oswald covered his mouth with his whole hand to keep from laughing. Ed pulled him into his room and shut the door, locking it just so they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Nice place,” Oswald said appreciatively, looking around at the lack of posters or any real personal touch. 

“No, it’s not,” Ed protested, yanking Oswald toward him again to kiss him. They stumbled to the bed and Ed’s dreams came true when Oswald sat on the edge of the mattress and Ed straddled his lap.

_ But he was kissing back now! He was kissing back! _

Oswald’s hands remained stubbornly on Ed’s face, even with Ed wrapping his arms around his neck. It was only when Ed shoved his hands into Oswald’s hoodie to coax it off that Oswald pulled away again.

Ed didn’t let up on pushing the hoodie off Oswald’s arms and throwing it across the room.

“Wait, Ed,” Oswald said, breathy and low. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, do you even have--”

“Ed?” Ecco’s voice called from outside the room. “Are you here?”

“Shit,” Oswald muttered, retracting his hands from Ed’s face to rest them on top of his thighs. “You should--”

“Yeah,” Ed said begrudgingly. “Come with me.”

They exited the room, Oswald trying to pat his hair into place and Ed smoothing down the front of his sweater.

“Edward?” said a familiar voice from the couch.

Ed looked up with horror. He wanted nothing more than to run for it.

“Mother?”

She got to her feet and rushed towards him, grabbing his hands. “Oh, Edward, we’ve been so worried about you!”

Ecco was still on the couch, looking confused. “She was waiting outside the door when I got home, asking for you. I let her in because I didn’t know what else to do.”

Ed shook his head, eyes never leaving his mother’s face.

“Where’s Father?”

Ed’s mother smiled softly. “I thought it would be better if I went alone to see you. You know how he is. He’d get all… worked up.”

_ Worked up _ …

“How did you find me?”

“Your father’s office got a call yesterday. Someone saw you on the news and recognized you, but she requested to be kept anonymous. She said she didn’t know you had run away, and that you’d changed your name--”

_ Essen… _

Ed started hyperventilating. “Who else knows I’m here?”

“Your father wanted to keep it from the police until we’d figured it all out. You know, to not make a big fuss.”

Ed knew what that meant. He felt his fingers twitching at his sides. Not make a big fuss, not have anyone see it when Father screamed and threw a lamp across the room and then maybe got a couple hits in _ because that would make a big fuss-- _

Ed’s mother looked over his shoulder and saw Oswald for the first time. “Oh, hello,” she greeted. 

Ed flinched. He never wanted this. He wanted them to forget about him, to just take the chance he was giving them and  _ forget about him _ . To live the life without him that they’d always wanted. Why couldn’t they have just left him alone?

“Hi,” Oswald said. He extended his hand. “I’m Oswald. Ed’s… friend.”

“I can… uh… see that,” she said, eyeing their messy appearance and Oswald’s disheveled hair. She ignored Oswald’s proffered hand and turned back to Ed. “Edward, darling, you  _ left  _ so suddenly. I was so frightened for you, that you had been taken--”

“I  _ left _ ,” Ed said firmly. “I left because I didn’t want to live with  _ you  _ anymore.”

“We gave you everything!” his mother snapped. “You had a roof over your head, food on the table, a secure place in the country’s top medical program. Edward, you were going places. You ran away for what? A chance to have some rebellious romp with the first person who looks at you twice?”

Ed sucked in a breath. “That is  _ not  _ what this is,” he hissed. “You know why I left, you  _ know _ \--”

“You’re a spoiled child!” she yelled. “You had everything and you threw it all away for this  _ dump _ ? For meaningless flings and living in a cesspool of crime? Please, have some  _ sense _ !”

“I… I have to go,” Oswald said.

“No,” Ed said, pulling away from his mother’s grip on his hands so he could take Oswald’s instead. “Don’t leave.”

Oswald glanced at Ed’s mother and then at the floor. “I have work tomorrow,” he explained. “I should… go.”

Ed swallowed. “I’ll walk you out, then.”

“No need,” Oswald quipped, letting go of Ed’s hand and heading for the door. 

“Edward--” his mother started but Ed was already following his heart out the door.

“Wait!” he shouted, but Oswald didn’t stop, walking briskly down the hall and into the stairwell. “Oswald, wait! All that she was saying, it isn’t true! She doesn’t even  _ know  _ you--”

“It isn’t about that, Ed,” Oswald said, voice tight. “You have a  _ life _ . A really beautiful, bright life. You have a future.”

“She was just saying things, Oswald--”

The stairwell smelled like cement and paint and it was stuffy and filthy. It was almost difficult to breathe. 

“She was right.” Oswald sighed. “You shouldn’t be… wasting your first kiss or your first time on me. It should be with someone you love.”

“It  _ was _ !” Ed shouted, voice breaking. 

It was silent for some time and Ed realized his face was wet with tears. 

“I’m sorry I led you on,” Oswald said, avoiding eye contact. 

“No,” Ed bit out. “You  _ said _ \--”

“I just wanted you in the sack, Ed.” Oswald ran a hand over his face. “I mean, look at you. Who wouldn’t?”

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” Ed argued. 

Oswald didn’t answer. 

Ed rubbed at his face, trying in vain to dry it from tears, but more kept slipping down his cheeks. “Could you--” His voice cracked so he tried again. “Could you maybe never talk to me again? Please don’t… Don’t come here again. Please.”

“Okay,” Oswald whispered. “Good bye, Ed.”

He walked down the rest of the stairs and Ed listened as his footsteps echoed around the stairwell and then the door opened and shut and he was gone.

* * *

 

Ed went back to the apartment after his face had dried.

Ecco stood when he returned. “Ed, are you okay?”

Ed nodded curtly. “Could I talk to my mother alone, please?”

“Oh… yeah… sure… I’ll just be in my room, then.”

“Thank you.” 

His mother was sitting on the couch again, legs crossed. “Ecco is a very strange name for a young lady. I don’t know where you found her, but this is not what I had in mind for your first roommate. And that  _ man _ … I think he was wearing makeup. You were having sex with him? Edward, your rebellion has gone too far. Not only to have sex with a  _ man _ but one like  _ him _ , what were you thinking--”

“I love him,” Ed said simply. “That’s irrelevant, though.” He stood with his arms crossed by the door. “Why are you here?”

“To take you home.”

Ed shook his head. “This is my home now. You barged in on it and ruined  _ everything _ . I’d like you to leave.”

“Edward,” his mother gasped. “I’m your  _ mother _ . I love you.” She got to her feet and approached him, running her fingers over his arms in a gentle caress. “I missed you the moment you were gone. I can’t stand to live without you, my precious baby boy. Every minute without knowing if you were safe was pure agony.”

Ed sniffled, feeling tears tingle in his eyes again. “Oh.”

“And happy birthday, Eddie,” she whispered. “Happy birthday.”

The tears spilled from his eyes again and she pulled him in for a hug. “Mother, I--”

“Shh,” she cooed. “It’s okay. I love you. It’ll all be okay.”

He sobbed into her shoulder for several minutes until his head hurt and his eyes stung.

“You can stay on the couch tonight,” he said. 

She nodded and ran a hand over his cheek. “Of course, darling. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Ed pulled away from her and headed into his bedroom. He ran on autopilot, dressing in his pajamas and brushing his teeth before he glimpsed Oswald’s hoodie on the floor.

Oswald was probably cold right now.

It was too late to get it back to him, though.

Ed took off his pajama top and put the hoodie on instead. It was warm and smelled like cigarettes and Oswald’s cologne. He went to bed like that, smelling the most beautiful scent in the world and crying silently to himself until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write kisses. WhoOoOps
> 
> Anyway, happy birthday, Ed!!!!


	12. Pale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE content warning for abuse and violence in this chapter. please proceed with caution if needed. please be aware of the change in tags!!!

Ed only took the hoodie off to put a sweater on and then he was pulling it back over his shoulders. 

To be parted from it for even those few seconds left him frozen, as if it was the only thing that could properly keep him warm. He hardly remembered to brush his teeth, feeling no motivation to get up and fix himself a nice breakfast.

Instead, he poured himself a bowl of Ecco’s sugary cereal and ate it on the counter, clutching the hoodie tightly around himself and fantasizing about being a pill bug.

It would be rather convenient to have an exoskeleton. That’s how bugs survived falling from great heights. Exoskeletons. 

In comparison, humans were tender and soft and fragile. A harsh shove against the brittle ribcage and it would shatter. A sledgehammer to the heart and it burst into blood and sticky tissue. Such a mess to clean it all up.

The cereal didn’t taste like anything. He wasn’t paying attention while he was eating and he almost didn’t notice when he finished.

“Good morning, Edward,” his mother said from the couch, yawning. “How does it feel to be twenty years old?”

Ed’s heart was in the stairwell, tiny little shards of glass dusted all over the steps and stuck in the cement and the crevices of paint drops on the wall. He felt awful.

“Fine,” he said. He washed his bowl, watching as the milk circled around the drain. 

His mother sat up on the couch. She cleared her throat. “So about that man from last night--”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Ed bit out. 

“You said you loved him,” she continued, ignoring him. 

_ Love him _ , he corrected inwardly.  _ He isn’t somebody one can stop loving _ .

“Is he your… boyfriend?”

Ed felt a strange desire to laugh. “No. Not at all.”

He felt ashamed, really. He’d really wanted to be Oswald’s true love, to be his everything. They could go on dates together and kiss lazily on Sunday mornings like Ecco and Ivy did. They could share their lives together and go out to clubs and Ed could lend him books and Oswald could show him music and they could live with hands clasped together. He’d shoved his stupid thighs on either side of Oswald’s waist and basically  _ thrown himself at him _ and--

How embarrassing.

He felt the impulse to text Oswald, just to apologize for his wanton behavior.

But he had told him to  _ stay away _ and if he texted, Oswald might think that Ed had changed his mind.

“So where did you meet him?” His mother’s voice was tight and unimpressed, like she was forcing herself to discuss this, even though Ed had told her he didn’t want to talk about it.

He rolled his eyes and rested his elbows on the kitchen counter, meeting her gaze. “I met him when he was buying cigarettes at a 7 Eleven. He works at a club owned by a feared mobster and he has random sex with all sorts of strange men and I fell in love with him and offered myself to him. Does that sate your curiosity?” He pushed himself off the counter and headed for his room, but his mother jumped from the couch and intercepted him.

“Edward Nashton!” she snapped. His blood boiled at the surname. “You are behaving like a child! Your entire rebellion has gotten completely out of hand!”

Ed bit his tongue. He was already starting to feel guilty and wrong for speaking to his own mother like that.

“You should be ashamed of yourself! You’re lucky your father isn’t here to see this. He would be so disappointed in you.” She shook her head and looked genuinely morose. “I won’t tell him about your… about the man you introduced to me yesterday. It’s best to just leave that fiasco in the past and forget it ever happened.”

_ I love him I love him I love him I love him I love _ \--

“Alright,” Ed conceded. He’d told Oswald not to talk to him again anyway.

“Now, I really thought we were making progress yesterday,” his mother continued, paying no attention to Ed’s spine deflating in submission. “Let’s sit down and discuss this further.” She led him to the couch and invited him to sit. 

Just the other day, he and Ecco had sat on the couch to watch an episode of her favorite TV show but now he was sitting next to his mother and he hated this.

How could he think for even a moment that he could  _ have  _ this?

“Let’s start from the beginning,” she said, smoothing over the front of her blouse. Had she slept in that? “Why did you run away?”

Ed stared at a water stain on the coffee table. Ecco hadn’t used coasters until Ed bought her some, ones with card suits so that they were personal. They’d only cost two bucks for a pack, and they were cheaply made, but Ecco had shrieked and kissed him on the cheek in appreciation. 

“Edward?”

He didn’t want to answer. Suddenly, it seemed stupid. “I… I was scared.”

“Of what?” she asked patiently.

“Of… Father.” He felt himself shrink inwards, felt his lungs shrivel up in his chest and his gut squeeze painfully down on his bladder. 

“Why?” 

_ How could she ask that _ ? “He hurt me, Mom--He was always--”

“You know how your father is, Edward.” His mother ran her hand over the back of his. “He’s just hard on the surface. I can’t believe you didn’t just sit down and talk with him about it first. I must admit, your behavior is unacceptable. I’ll tell him what the issue is and we’ll all have a family talk about it.”

He shook his head. “No, we don’t have to--”

“This is not a debate, Edward.” She withdrew her hand. “Now I called your father last night and told him where you’ve been. I didn’t talk about your… friend… but I did mention Ecco and he was surprised that you’ve become acquainted with a girl.” She grinned. “He was impressed, in fact. She’s not what I would have chosen for you personally, but--”

“Ecco is dating someone else,” Ed muttered softly. It wouldn’t do to mention that the someone else was another girl. That wouldn’t help anything. 

“I see. That’s disappointing, but what can we do?” She sighed. “No matter. You are too good for that girl anyway.”

“Ecco’s lovely,” Ed defended but his mother wasn’t listening.

“You’ll be pleased to hear, I think, that one of the neighbors’ girls has been asking about you quite a lot since your disappearance. She’s been very distraught about the whole situation and even helped us post flyers all over the neighborhood. Have you ever met Isabella? I think she went to the Catholic school on the other side of town but you must have crossed paths at some point--”

“Mother, I’m already in love with someone else--”

“I thought we agreed not to mention that again, dear?” She looked genuinely confused for a moment, as if Edward was behaving in a ludicrous manner. “Anyway, we will have to make your story more presentable for the public when you finally come home with us.” She crossed her legs and looked him straight in the eyes. “Your father and I talked a bit about it last night and we are going to tell the police that you’ve been found in Gotham after being taken advantage of by hoodlums. You’re young and naive and it isn’t a complete lie. After all, if the neighbors heard our son had  _ run away _ , I don’t even want to think about what kind of rumors--I mean, just imagine the scandal of it all.” She exhaled wearily. “All of the sympathy they had about your disappearance would turn into gossip and judgment. We’d be called abusers and monsters and for what? Because our son had a little rebellious phase.”

Edward sat silent on the couch, toying with the sleeves of Oswald’s hoodie. It still smelled so much like him. 

“I had a similar phase, Edward. When I was a teenager, I ran away for a week. I stayed at my friend’s house and we did a lot of things together that I’m not proud of. But if I could take it back, I wouldn’t. It was an important part of my journey to adulthood. But now that it’s done, I won’t discuss it anymore. It happened and it mattered but it’s over now. Time to be a grown up. The same goes for you. Gotham was a nice trip. Educational. It’s over now.”

Ed nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

“Now why don’t you start packing up, okay?” She pinched one of his cheeks and got to her feet. “I’m gonna go find something to eat. I hope you’ve been eating healthy while you were here. I can’t imagine the horrible grease traps in this dump of a city.” Ed remembered all the restaurants he went to with Oswald. A fleeting memory. Mother was right. Time to move on. “Now take that horrible hoodie off and get packing.”

“It’s the warmest thing I have and I’m feeling very cold. Can I keep it? Please?” 

“Fine, just hurry up. I want to get home soon so we can figure out what to do with your father. He will be so upset about what you’ve done. The quicker we get home, the less angry he will be.”

Time to move on but… the hoodie was different. It was the only thing he had. He couldn’t bear to part with it.

He didn’t have much to pack so he sat on the edge of his bed and hugged the black hoodie around himself. He inhaled deeply into the sleeves and imagined that Oswald was holding him. Oswald  _ had  _ held him. 

He wasn’t aching inside. He had been in pure agony last night but now it was nothing but a dull throb, mostly numbed by the stress of everything else.

He sat for twenty minutes and did nothing but inhale Oswald’s scent in the hoodie. He didn’t notice he was crying again until his mother entered the room without knocking.

“Edward!” she scolded. “You’ve done nothing! You haven’t packed a single thing!” 

Ed rubbed at his tears with the sleeve of the hoodie. 

“Edward,” she said, voice calmer as she sat next to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Ecco and Ivy and Kristen and… and Oswald… were the only people to really care about me,” he sniffled. “Nobody else has ever done so much for me before. I don’t want to leave them. Oswald, he--I mean it was probably just a misunderstanding--Maybe we can talk it out--”

“Edward.” Her voice was firm now. “Ecco is a teenager who lives alone in a polluted, crime-ridden city. She roped you into becoming roommates because she probably couldn’t pay the rent on her own. I don’t know who Ivy or Christine are--”

“Kristen,” he corrected under his breath.

“--but that Oswald man was a piece of work. Nobody ever cared about you like that? You mean nobody’s ever walked out on you and left you behind to cry all night? That’s not love, Edward.” She carded a hand through his hair and his skin crawled at the touch. “Love doesn’t run away. Love is running after something. You were gone but I couldn’t stand to let you go. I needed my precious baby boy, my Edward. I love you. Your father loves you. Nobody else could possibly do as much for you as we have.”

His father had waited for Edward to return home from school one day, sitting on the armchair with a report card in his lap. Ed had gone to an Academic Decathlon study meeting so he was home later than expected. It was dark by the time he entered the living room to see his father sipping at some top shelf bourbon, glaring at him.

“Took you long enough,” he’d said. Ed’s mother was in the kitchen, humming softly as she finished dinner. His father held up the report card while taking a slurp of bourbon from his glass. “What do you see here, Edward?”

“Straight As,” Ed answered, after leaning in and grinning proudly at the letters all in a neat column. A, A, A, A, A, A, A… 

“Mhmm,” his father nodded in solemn agreement, setting his glass down on the coffee table. “Do you remember your grades from last quarter. Particularly, your chemistry grade?”

“It was a B.”

“A B  _ minus _ ,” his father sneered. “Now please tell me how you went from a B minus to an A?”

“I put in more time studying and focused more in class. I understand the concepts a lot better now--”

“You cheated.”

“No, I didn’t. I studied. I wouldn’t cheat.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy,” his father growled, getting to his feet. “I’m a lawyer. I  _ know  _ people. I can read them like a book. You can’t lie to me. I know you cheated.”

Ed had tried to protest more but that had made his punishment worse. Eventually, the only thing he could hear was his own crying, his blood rushing in his ear, and the sound of his mother humming loudly in the kitchen, pretending like nothing was happening in the living room.

The humming got louder and louder and the sweet melody became a sinister warning.

That was the best love he was ever going to get. Nobody could ever love him more than that, could ever love so much as to leave bruises all over his back because his father had believed in him, had believed he could be better.

Ed forgot if he had cheated or not. It wasn’t important anymore. The important thing was that his father had doubted him in the first place.

But he loved him. They both loved him enough to chase him and drag him back to Metropolis.

“That boy doesn’t love you,” his mother said. “If he loved you, he would be here, wouldn’t he?”

Ed nodded. 

“I’m here. I’m here because I love you.”

She held him and he stared blankly beyond her shoulder at the wall as he shed cold tears. 

“You should go to the library and quit your position. Apologize to your employer and coworkers for lying about your identity and then we’ll go home. In the meantime, I’ll pack your things for you.”

“Okay.”

Ed parted from her and stood up to go, but she grabbed his wrist tightly before he could. He yelped in surprise. 

“On second thought, you have been rather untrustworthy recently. You’ll have to earn back our trust. Wait here while I make a call. I can’t have you going anywhere unsupervised.”

* * *

 

It took Isabella forty-five minutes to drive to Ecco’s apartment. By the time she arrived, Ecco had even woken up and was eating Pop-Tarts on the couch as she watched a horror flick. Her eyes remained stubbornly on the screen except for the few times she’d cast her eyes up to look at Ed with sympathy and sadness.

Whatever points his mother had made about Oswald, Ed was certain that Ecco did care for him in some small way, even if it had never been anything more than pity (his mother had insisted it was pity--”Just look at you, Edward; you’re pathetic!”).

Isabella knocked on the door and Ed’s mother answered as if she owned the place, beckoning her guest inside. 

“Isabella, dear, you’ll be looking over Edward during his trip to the library. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she said, clasping her hands in front of herself politely. She reminded Ed vaguely of Kristen. Something about their eyes, perhaps. “I’m glad you’re safe, Edward.” Her voice sounded sweet and sincere but her eyes were vacant of emotion and Ed was quickly trying to formulate a way to escape her.

They were shooed out of the apartment and they made their way down the stairwell together, Isabella talking distantly about how concerned everyone had been about his disappearance. Ed wasn’t listening, just trying to avoid the little pieces of his heart on the steps and the drops of his blood smeared on the wall. 

“--I mean, I didn’t tell anyone when your mom called me. She and your dad want it to be a surprise when you return. I’m glad they let me be a part of it.”

They were finally out of the building and Ed released a loud sigh of relief as soon as he felt the chill of the wind. 

“I parked over there,” Isabella said and Ed shrugged with disinterest. He didn’t care. 

Her car was very nice, almost as nice as Barbara’s had been, but it lacked the personality of the sleek red car Barbara owned. Her seats were cream leather and Ed fastened his seat belt and ran his fingers absentmindedly over the bumps in it.

“You want to go to the library?” Isabella asked, fixing her blonde hair in the mirror. 

“Not particularly, but that’s what my mother wants.” He had a shift today. He was already several hours late. What an embarrassment. Not that Essen wouldn’t have an idea of what happened.

“Who cares?” Isabella snorted. “I mean, Gotham is such a fun city. Libraries are cool but Metropolis has four libraries in midtown alone.”

“I’m not going to sight-see,” Ed bit out. “I’m going to quit my job.”

“Oh,” Isabella reclined in her seat, the key hanging in the ignition, unturned. “Why?”

“Because my mother wants me to return home.”

“You don’t sound like you want to.” Ed remained silent. “But it’s what your mother wants,” Isabella filled in the gaps. Ed nodded somberly. “Well, what do you want?”

“Oswald,” Ed answered, pulling the zipper of the hoodie up until his mouth was covered in the black fabric and he was sniffing the nice smell again. 

“Your boyfriend?”

“I wish,” Ed pouted, feeling like a toddler. “He made it clear last night that he doesn’t feel the same.”

Isabella scoffed. “Oh, whatever. You deserve better anyway.” Ed could not agree  _ less _ , but he remained stubbornly silent. “Your mother doesn’t like that you’re gay, huh?”

“Bisexual--” he started to correct, though he’d never told his mother anything about that sort of thing for it to make any difference.

Isabella shrugged. “Whatever. She doesn’t like it?” Ed shook his head.

“She wants to set me up with you,” he confessed.

Isabella snorted again, finally starting up the car and pulling out of her spot. “Well, that’s not going to happen.” She turned left onto the main street and gave Ed a quick wink. “I’m a lesbian, after all.”

* * *

 

Isabella took them to Gotham City Mall, a huge shopping center that Ed hadn’t even heard of. Ecco and Ivy and Oswald had been keen to show him the charm and beauty of Gotham’s underground scene, the dirty and the filthy.

Isabella came from money, evident by the pearls hanging from her earlobes and the fancy updo she had. Malls were Metropolitans’ bread and butter. 

They window-shopped and visited a few stores. Isabella listened whenever Ed expressed interest in a shop. They visited Brookstone and a few games stores, but Ed didn’t feel the desire to make any purchases. 

Isabella did buy things. She dragged Ed into a boutique and was trying on a dress in the changing room, Ed hanging around outside and staring morosely at his reflection in the abundant mirrors. He looked elongated and tired. His eyes were red from so much crying and his hair was a mess. The hoodie was the only thing of value on his person. He shoved his hands into the pockets and felt a tiny rustle of paper. He extracted it and smoothed it out.

It was a receipt to the Chinese restaurant they went to so long ago. 

“What’s with the smile?” Isabella asked. Ed startled at her presence. She was checking her reflection, twisting and turning in the dress. “You think it looks good?” Ed shrugged and then nodded, shoving the receipt back in the pocket. He really had no opinion. “God, you’re useless.”

She was impressed with the dress and purchased it. After an hour of that, Ed was getting nervous about his mother’s doubtlessly growing ire so Isabella  finally agreed to drive to the library. 

On the ride there, she suddenly gasped and then started giggling with delight. “Oh, Edward, I’ve had the most  _ marvelous  _ idea!”

“What?”

“Let’s take a picture in front of the library, to send to your mother.” She grinned over at him before turning back. “And then, once she’s convinced, I’ll help you run away again.”

Run away? There was no point in that. His parents were the only people who would ever love him. He should never have left them to begin with.

“What’s the point?” he asked.

“Because you’re obviously terrified of them and I don’t blame you. Mr. Nashton is the scariest man I’ve ever met.”

He really had no reason to be scared of his own parents. Anything they did to him was out of  _ love _ . It was  _ because  _ they loved him that they hurt him so much.

But just because he had no reason to be scared didn’t mean he wasn’t.

“Alright,” he conceded. “What’s in it for you?” 

“You’ll kiss me,” she said firmly. 

Ed flustered. “What? I thought you were a lesbian!”

“Yeah, I am. That’s the point. I have a girlfriend at school but because my parents suspect me, they won’t let us have friendly sleepovers.” She smiled, proud of herself. “If we take a picture of us kissing, then they’ll have nothing to be worried about.”

Ed sighed. “Sure.”

It was a small price to pay for freedom, especially since he’d realized yesterday that kisses were essentially meaningless.

They posed in front of the library, after spending a great deal of time finding the perfect position so that the words “Gotham City Public Library” would gleam sadly in the background of their photograph. 

“Alright, now kiss me. Make it quick and don’t make me throw up.”

Ed didn’t know how to do that. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck before leaning away.

“Oh my goodness, you  _ moron _ ,” she snapped, eyeing him like he was crazy. “You have to hold it long enough for me to take the picture!”

“Right,” he said. Leaning in again to kiss her. He held it this time, but began to whimper at the discomfort.

“That doesn’t work either,” she said, swatting him away. “You have to look like you’re into it. See? You look like you’re about to cry.” She showed him the picture and Ed cringed at his own distraught expression. “Smile, like this is something you’ve been waiting for, for  _ weeks _ .”

Ed closed his eyes and pretended like he was leaning in to kiss Oswald. Isabella’s lips were not the same, and it was hard to pretend, but the illusion was enough to keep up a smile until Isabella took a picture she was satisfied with.

“Wonderful! Now I can send this to our parents and you can run off!”

“What?” he asked, bewildered. 

Isabella put her phone in her purse and looked him in the eyes. “What?”

“You sent that to my mother?”

She nodded. “I figured if your mom hates that you’re bi, it would help you too if I sent a picture of you kissing a girl.”

“No!” he snapped. “I told her I’m in love! She’ll know something’s up!”

“Maybe we just hit it off?” Isabella offered. “I can text her that, if you’d like.”

She moved to do it and Ed started to hyperventilate.  _ She’ll know she’ll know she’ll know she’ll know _ \--

“What am I going to do?” he asked, voice wracked with despair.

“You should run for it,” she said. “You have a head start! Gotham’s huge. She won’t be able to find you.”

That had been the initial plan. But they had found him anyway. He’d done everything he could and they had found him anyway.

“Thank you,” he said to Isabella, nodding in appreciation before he ran down the street away from the library.

* * *

 

He tried to create as much distance between himself and the library as possible. Before he knew it, it was dark and the lights of the city were slipping away, flickering dim. 

It struck him that this neighborhood was familiar, but he was too busy heaving in rasping breaths to place it. 

It was only when he turned a corner and saw his mother standing by the bright lights of the gas station across the street from Ecco’s apartment that he realized where he’d gone.

His stupid feet had just taken him home.

She spotted him just as he made to sprint away, but he was tired and she caught up to him, grabbing him the the hood and forcing him back so he was choking. 

“Edward Nashton,” she said cruelly. “You tried to run away again. I gave you the chance to do this right, and you spat in my face.” She shoved him so he fell on the sidewalk. He couldn’t breathe. “Edward, you know I love you but this was the last straw. You say you’re frightened of your father?” She towered over him and he rubbed his neck, gasping for air. “Then maybe you should start behaving so he doesn’t feel the need to be so scary. He’s a sweet man but you  _ test  _ him, Edward. You test everyone. You’re almost impossible to love.”

Ed felt his eyes water with hot tears as he slowly recovered oxygen. 

“Your own parents struggle to love you and you really think some trashy criminal strangers are going to care about you? Edward, please. Have some sense.”

He could hear her humming from the kitchen again. His father had  _ hurt _ him and she had just hummed from the kitchen. That’s all she ever did.

She hummed.

“I’m going to call your father. I am so disappointed in you, Edward. We wanted to do this the safest way possible for  _ you _ , but you just couldn’t have that, could you? You had to make it difficult, didn’t you?”

Ed clumsily got to his feet, still struggling to breathe. 

His mother shook her head, her face the perfect picture of feigned heartbreak. “I hope he paints the living room with you. Maybe that will knock some sense into you.”

“Shut up!” he screamed. 

Her face sobered and she slapped him. “Don’t talk to me like that, Edward.” She thrust her purse forward into his arms, ignoring the way he held his stinging cheek in shock, and started dialing a number on her phone. “I’m calling your father. Let’s head to that whore’s apartment and we’ll go home.”

Ed watched as she took some steps forward, already talking to her husband on the phone. He dug around in the purse for something,  _ anything _ , and felt his stomach sink when the only thing he could use ended up firmly grasped in his hand.

His father had bought it for her one Christmas. A golden peacock brooch.

“Because you are my Hera,” he’d whispered adoringly. “Queen of the Gods and a wonderful mother.”

Ed had bit his tongue about how Hera was a petty and jealous woman who had hurt countless people just because of her husband’s infidelity.

The brooch was lovely and studded with diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. 

It also had a sharp clasp and pin and Ed held it behind his back as he closed his mother’s purse and followed cautiously behind her. If she made one more move to hurt him, he would be ready.

She hung up and waved him over so she could replace her phone in her purse. 

They were back on the quiet, dark street Ed had called home for several weeks. 

His mother turned to him and smiled sweetly.

She used to smile like that whenever she found him hiding from his father. She’d find him in the linens closet, or under the sink, or on in the onion basket in the pantry (he loathed onions). Then she’d kneel down to smile sweetly.

“He won’t hurt you,” she’d promise, and she’d coax him out by the hand, gentle and reassuring. And then his father would unbuckle his belt, pull it off emotionlessly, and beckon him closer with an index finger and she would coo and run her fingers through his hair until he was shaking and shivering.

That horrible belt.

_ You deserve this _ .

She was smiling sweetly, sadly. “Edward, darling,” she cooed, like she always used to. “We just want what’s best for you. Unfortunately, you’ve betrayed our trust. Your father is so heartbroken. He will want to deal with you properly. In the meantime, you’ll come with me. No more running away.” She reached forward, gentle fingers pressing lightly against the skin of his wrist. “Come.”

He resisted and her feather touch became iron and she squeezed hard around his wrist. She yanked him forward and Ed yelped in pain because it felt like she was trying to tug his arm out of the socket. 

She sounded like she was weeping when she spoke again. “I really don’t know what we did to deserve this hatred from you.” She looked him up and down and then her face flashed with fury. “Take that god awful thing  _ off _ !” she snapped, grabbing at his sleeve and pulling it off. “I don’t know where you got it but it is hideous! I won’t let the neighbors see you wearing it!”

“Please!” he begged. “It’s Oswald’s! Just let me keep it! I promise I won’t wear it, just let me keep it!”

“Oswald doesn’t love you!” she screamed. “Who could? You were a mistake, Edward! We didn’t want you but we took care of you anyway, and this is how you repay us?” 

She was tugging viciously at his arm, yanking it until he could hardly feel it and he did the first thing that occurred to him: he plunged the pin of the peacock brooch into her throat.

She shrieked and let go and Ed watched in horror as he repeated the action a few more times, effectively silencing her until she was soaked red and had collapsed to the floor, choking on her own blood as it dribbled out of her mouth and spurted out her throat.

He whimpered as her eyes blinked in terror and then she stopped blinking and she stopped choking. 

He dropped the brooch and stared at her body. “Mother?”

She did not answer. 

Oh dear, he’d gotten blood all over Oswald’s sleeves.

He started breathing heavily as he stared at the blood on his hand, the blood on his mother’s throat, the red all over her chest, her face frozen forever in disappointment and loathing. 

“Mommy?” he asked, voice breaking. 

_ And she was the only person who ever treated you with any kindness _ . _ The only person to love someone as deplorable as you _ .

“I can fix this,” he muttered stubbornly. “It’s okay, Mommy, I can fix this.”

His fingers fumbled with his phone and he called the only person who would know what to do, how to help.

“Hello?” said the voice on the other end and Ed could hear the sound of music playing in the background. 

He laughed a little bit, despite the tears and blood all over his face, thinking about how odd it was that he was standing over his mother’s pierced body, talking to someone on the phone  _ casually _ .

_ What song are you listening to? Do you miss me? _

Instead, he sobbed out, “Oswald, please help me. I did something horrible.”


	13. I Think We're Alone Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i work so FAST lmao
> 
> unlucky number goes to oswald, of course....
> 
> ALSO, there is a description of the mercy killing of a dog in this chapter, as previously mentioned in chapter 4. be wary.

Oswald learned to count with the help of apartment mailboxes.

His mother held him tightly in her arms and counted out the apartment numbers until he understood. “Mr. Norris lives in number seven,” she’d say. “Sanchezes live in number eight.”

The problem was that the apartment didn’t have a number thirteen.

Each time they went down the list, Gertrud pointing at the surnames and the numbers one by one as they made their way down, she would say, “And we skip number thirteen.”

Once, Oswald asked why there was no number thirteen.

“It is unlucky number,” she explained. “Nobody wants to live in unlucky apartment, so they skip thirteen.”

* * *

 

When Oswald was thirteen years old, he was thrown down the school’s stairs by some bullies. 

He was small and his arms were weak and his antagonists had no trouble at all hoisting him into the air and pushing him backwards.

He broke his leg and was hospitalized.

His mother couldn’t afford the physical therapy or the surgery required to get it back to normal so Oswald laughed and said he’d look so much cooler with a limp.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

It hurt.

* * *

 

Oswald could whine about the number thirteen all day, mourning the horrible agony his leg was in at the simplest things sometimes. He wished it would go away, disappear into fire and smoke, but it didn’t. It lingered. 

Thus there was no point in bitching about numbers and luck because that’s how life was and he couldn’t change it.

He’d barely graduated high school, had neglected most of his assignments and spent more time kissing boys in the janitor’s closet than in class. His guidance counselor had spat at him that he was “going nowhere fast”, a waste of breath and space. Might as well be expelled. 

He’d shrugged in response.

One point three GPA.

D average.

But he’d learned to do his makeup nice, to dye his hair and to paint his nails properly. He’d learned to inhale smoke without choking up a lung. He’d learned how to coax someone into submitting to his will, teachers and coaches and crossing guards. 

“I’m sorry I’m late. It was my leg.”

“Tabitha Galavan shoved me, Coach, it’s not my fault I fell.”

“I didn’t steal anything! I saw that kid over there ogling it, though.”

His mother was proud of him when she saw his diploma. She’d grinned wide and kissed him all over his face in happiness. “My boy is so smart, so clever!” she said, over and over again, and Oswald ignored the tiny voice in his head that disagreed.

* * *

 

He’d known Ivy Pepper practically his whole life. She was three years younger than him and was more of a magnet for bullies than even he was.

As much as Oswald was a freak, wearing all black and not afraid to stab a kid with a pencil, Ivy had been so much more of one. She talked to plants, put flowers in her hair, yelled at people for trampling the grass.

She’d been shoved in the grass, just a small child, and Oswald had run forward to cuss her bullies out. He’d learned a lot of neat words on TV and in horror movies and wasn’t afraid to wield them. He called them all the swears he could think of: asshole, dickwad, prick, fucker.

Ivy had been his friend since then. She’d been the sun to his moon, a giddy and calming presence when all he wanted was to be cynical and negative.

He’d killed a dog once, for her and for her friend, Cat. They’d seen the poor thing get hit by a drunk driver outside of a bodega that Cat had just shoplifted candy bars from. Ivy and Cat had been thirteen, both nervously watching as the dog twitched and whimpered, seeping blood all over the asphalt as it died in slow agony.

They’d pleaded with him. It wouldn’t bother him as much, of course. He watched horror movies all the time. Gore was all he thought about. But taking a heavy object (had it been a rock or a brick?) and smashing the dog’s skull in so it died was absolutely nauseating. Oswald had wanted to empty the contents of his stomach as soon as the whimpers stopped. Instead, he straightened and dropped the rock (or brick--he really couldn’t remember) and smoothed his shirt down.

“Thank you, Ozzie,” Ivy had said and they’d all embraced. It was one of the worst experiences in Oswald’s life.

* * *

 

Oswald was eighteen when he got a job at Fish Mooney’s club, starting thirteen dollars an hour, mopping the floor. Fresh out of high school, tired of everything that came with that whole scene.

She’d caught him standing with a cook in front of him on his knees once. She’d said in a deathly calm voice, “See me in my office.” He was sure he’d be fired.

He shook in his seat, trying to think of what he could do next career-wise. 

It really looked like he was heading nowhere fast.

“You’re more than you look,” she said. “You’re bigger than all that, aren’t you?”

“Ma’am?” he’d asked. 

“You don’t want to be a janitor. You aren’t a janitor. You’re something more. I can see it. I like it.” 

Oswald was very good at pretending to be meek and taking advantage of people’s sympathies about his height and his leg. “Poor Oswald,” they’d say with pity. Poor Oswald was the breadwinner at such a young age for his mother. Poor Oswald mopped floors. Poor Oswald had a limp. Poor Oswald got shoved around by some of the tougher men he worked with.

Poor Oswald.

They could think that.

But Fish had seen something, apparently.

All he had to do was get a blow job in the pantry, and she saw his something more.

She made him her umbrella boy. She said he would carry her umbrella for her but really he was carrying everything. “You’re devious, boy,” she said. “I’m gonna use that. You’re special. A gift.”

Fish Mooney saw what other people overlooked. She had never once said “Poor Oswald”. She knew him better than that.

* * *

 

Oswald met Edward Nygma on the thirteenth of February.

He knew right away that there was something strange about him. They didn’t know each other, and they weren’t supposed to know each other, but Ed had held out his hand anyway and had blabbered about something Oswald didn’t even want to pay attention to.

He’d decided that Ed was  _ nothing _ and he continued with his life.

But Ed had refused to be in the periphery of his life. In no time at all, Oswald went from being annoyed at his presence to finding it infuriatingly  _ endearing _ .

Ed fell asleep clutching his arm on the rooftop and Oswald had been afraid to move for a long time. He’d never been a cuddler. He didn’t really  _ do  _ that, not with the people he slept with and definitely not with random nerdy boys he’d just met.

He woke up early the next morning with a vodka headache and that stupid face still squished against his arm and it had taken everything in his being to withdraw.

That had been a fluke, though, really nothing in the grand scheme. 

Sure, there was something very weird and almost frightening about the way Ed would look at him. And he would hold his breath around Oswald, and glance away, and get red in the face.

Not a big deal.

And then Ed threw up at Miss Mooney’s party and he’d clung to Oswald and begged him to stay and Oswald’s heart had  _ flipped  _ in his chest for no reason.

_ He’s cute _ , he’d thought. 

“You’re not my type,” he said, laughing, and it was ridiculous really. He should have laughed. There he was, holding this infuriating nerd in his arms, staying with him in bed even though he could be getting  _ laid _ . But he wasn’t his type?

Not in the slightest.

In the morning, he’d caught himself inhaling the scent of Ed’s hair and, frustrated, decided to just  _ give up _ . 

“We should hang out sometime,” he’d said and Ed had looked petrified, like he’d rather die than hang out with him.

But it happened anyway, going to dinner together every once in a while.

Oswald couldn’t even count the times he’d stop listening to whatever trivia Ed was rambling about to instead stare at his lips and nod occasionally to give off the impression of full, undivided attention.

It was agony.

* * *

 

He still had dick appointments with Zsasz sometimes, but they stopped being any fun. 

He’d realized once, with no small amount of horror, that he’d almost said Ed’s name as he climaxed and then he decided that he couldn’t pretend anymore.

“This isn’t gonna work,” he’d said to Zsasz afterward, lighting a cigarette. “I can’t do this.”

Zsasz had nodded with understanding. “You fell in love, huh?”

Oswald blinked with surprise, wondering what had made it so obvious. Had he actually said Ed’s name, after all? “Well, yes… How did you know?”

Zsasz snuggled into his pillow. “I’m easy to love,” he explained. “I’m sorry but I just don’t feel the same. I thought we were just sex, to be honest.”

“Not you!” Oswald snapped, angrily pulling his cigarette out of his mouth. “I’m in love with someone else, you idiot!”

“Oh,” Zsasz said, a look of bewilderment on his face. “Well, I don’t mind. I never thought we were monogamous.”

“We weren’t  _ anything _ , Victor,” Oswald spat. “We just fucked every once in a while.”

“So, you can’t fuck me anymore because you’re thinking of another guy?”

Oswald nodded.

“Hey, I don’t mind. Whatever gets your rocks off.”

Oswald groaned in frustration. “I don’t think you understand at all.” He sighed. “I only want him.” His face fell in his hands in despair. “Jesus fuck, I’m being fucking  _ ridiculous _ .”

Zsasz sat up and pulled him into a hug. Oswald tensed. It was awkward, after all, getting hugged by a fuck buddy with absolutely no clothes between them. 

“Victor, what are you doing?”

“My bubbe taught me about love,” he’d said solemnly and Oswald made a face of doubt. “It’s dumb as fuck, but you fight for it.”

“Your bubbe said that?” Oswald asked. “Let go of me.”

Zsasz pulled away, gripped Oswald’s shoulder tightly. “You can’t give up,” he said. “Fight for your man.”

Oswald ignored him, in the middle of taking another drag when Zsasz gasped dramatically.

“You could take him to the carnival!”

“Shut up,” Oswald said dismissively. “I’m not a dumb teenager and this isn’t  _ The Notebook _ . I’m just gonna tell him how I feel and if he feels the same, then we’ll figure it out.”

“Where’s your sense of romance, Os?” Zsasz pouted. “I thought you loved this guy.”

“I do. Stop butting in.”

“There’s nothing more romantic than kissing at the top of a Ferris wheel. I know because this guy I used to date kissed me at the top once. Shame he’s in prison now.”

“Ferris wheels?” Oswald asked, skeptically.

“Yeah. Just kiss him at the top.” 

Oswald considered it, taking a drag as he mulled it over.

“Oh, and take me with. I wanna get the unicorn I didn’t get last year.”

* * *

 

Oswald couldn’t kiss him at the top. It was dark and Ed was smiling and the carnival below was glimmering and it was magic. It would have been the perfect place to kiss him, loathe as Oswald was to admit it. 

But he couldn’t. 

He took his hand instead, still a horrifying risk, and he breathed a sigh of relief when Ed held it back. 

Oswald went to bed that night with a ridiculous smile on his face and the beautiful epiphany that he’d finally found his one true love. 

He had every intention of running to it.

* * *

 

He ran from it.

He hadn’t meant to.

The entire day, he’d let Ed drag him all over Gotham, watching carefully as Ed bit his lip over dinner or held his mouth agape like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

He grew frustrated at the lack of progress.

Outside Ecco’s store, they sat on the curb and drank slurpees and Oswald was sure Ed would kiss him, but he didn’t. 

So Oswald did it instead.

He didn’t know what he was saying at first, rambling about how Ed gave his life meaning, like some sort of cheesy soap opera his mom liked to watch. But it was true.

His life had been going nowhere fast.

Meaningless sex. Watching Miss Mooney beat traitors with a baseball bat. Smoking cigarettes and reading the surgeon general’s warning on the box over and over again, looking at the skull and crossbones and knowing his lungs were decaying inside of him. Going to clubs and hooking up with guys whose names and faces he couldn’t remember afterward.

With Ed, there was no desire to run. He wanted to stay right there with him and see what going  _ somewhere  _ felt like. Oswald would follow Ed anywhere.

And then they were kissing and Ed was smiling against his mouth and somehow they ended up in Ed’s room, on his bed (though Oswald couldn’t remember how they got there), with Ed shoving his hoodie off and for the first time in his life Oswald wanted to say, “Stop. Let’s go slow.”

He could kiss Ed for days, do nothing but kiss him and run his hands through his hair and over his arms. Then, he’d kiss down his neck, down his chest, down his arms and his stomach and his legs. He’d kiss every inch of him and worship him slowly. 

_ Stop. Let’s go slow. Let me relish this. _

Oswald watched as Ed argued with his mother. 

The more Ed talked, the more his mother argued back, the more Oswald started to realize the reality of the situation.

With Ed, Oswald’s life could start. His heart would find a beat.

With Oswald, Ed’s life would turn static. Everything that made him vibrant would, inevitably, die.

Oswald didn’t have a future.

He was going nowhere fast, and he didn’t want to take Ed with him.

It was somehow preferable to watch Ed cry than to watch him ruin his life for him. 

Ed was beautiful and lovely and people would love him. Oswald was certain of this.

* * *

 

He’d realized he’d forgotten his hoodie as soon as he left the apartment building but he knew it was too late. What was he gonna do? Go back and say, “Yeah, sorry, I forgot my hoodie so lemme just get it real quick and then you can go back to hating me”? No. He’d just leave it.

His mother was asleep by the time he got home so he went straight to bed too, thinking of all the things Ed would probably do upon realizing the hoodie had been left behind.

He was probably burning it.

As he should.

* * *

 

Oswald didn’t have time to wallow in the morning. He had to get up and go to work.

He went through the motions like he did everyday, going nowhere fast.

Miss Mooney noticed right away when he zoned out in the middle of a business deal, his fingers absently brushing against his lips.

“Boy,” she’d hissed. “Snap out of it!”

“Yes, Miss Mooney,” he said, straightening.

At about noon, he answered a call. “Fish Mooney’s,” he said, feeling like a secretary. “Can I help you?”

“Uh. Yeah. Maybe.” The voice was small and nervous. “Is this Oswald?” He hummed his assent. “I’m Kristen? Kringle? We met briefly at the party?” Oswald didn’t say anything. Of course it didn’t ring a bell. Plenty of people came up to him at those parties. “I was with Ed?”

“Oh.” Oswald straightened and pushed his papers aside.

“Yeah, I was wondering if you’d heard from him today?”

“No,” Oswald answered, voice tight. 

“Oh. It’s just that it’s been a few hours and Ed’s never late. I was just worried something had happened to him.”

“Do you think…?” He tried to keep his voice calm. Ed was probably just with his mother. He was probably safe. “You tried to call him?”

“He isn’t answering.” 

Oswald bit his lip. “Just… Just try again. If he shows up, call me.”

After sharing his number he held up and tried to shove all thought of Edward Nygma out of his head.

It didn’t work. 

And then, right as he was getting off his shift, Kristen called again.

“I… I saw him.”

“He came in?” Oswald asked, exhaling with relief.

“Well, no… He was with a girl, outside. They were taking pictures and kissing. It was really weird.”

Oswald swallowed. He hadn’t expected that. “I see.”

“Really, I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend, but apparently… he does.”

He could feel a fire of jealousy in his stomach but he ignored it. If he wanted Ed to have a good life, then this was a good start for him.

“That’s great,” Oswald said. “I’m glad he’s okay.”

Kristen started to say something but Oswald hung up. Whatever it was probably wasn’t important.

* * *

 

“You are sick again? Oh, precious boy! They are overworking you at that club! I know this!” His mother sounded angry, two seconds away from calling Miss Mooney to give her a stern talking to.

Oswald rolled his eyes and groaned into his pillow. “I’m not sick,” he grumbled, turning his music up. “I just want to wallow in self pity for a bit.”

“What has happened? Has someone else been promoted unfairly again?”

Oswald shook his head.

“It is Edward, no?”

He could feel tears stinging his eyes so he planted his face firmly into the pillow to stifle them. 

“You have found your true love,” Gertrud exclaimed. “I always knew you would!”

“It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” he snapped. “It’s not anything worth celebrating.”

He felt the mattress sink lower as his mother took a seat next to him on the bed. “Love is always worth celebrating,” she said firmly. 

“No, it isn’t,” Oswald bit out. “It just hurts. And I can’t even be with him without fucking him up. And that hurts even more.”

“He loves you,” Gertrud said.

“He doesn’t know anything. He just thinks that.” Oswald pouted into his pillow. “Just let me wallow about this please.”

“You deserve to be happy.”

“I’ll be happy if he’s happy.”

“He can’t be happy without his true love.” Gertrud’s warm hand was rubbing up and down his arm. “He is soulmate, yes? Then you two cannot be happy apart. Not now. Not ever.”

Oswald thought it was just his luck that his soulmate probably had a different soulmate. A girl he’d apparently found in the thirteen hours since Oswald had left. Well, whatever. He’d wish them all the best.

“Just let me wallow,” he groaned, turning the volume up even higher until Gertrud tsked under her breath with frustration and left the room, slamming the door passive-aggressively.

He let himself sob to the sounds of The Cure and tossed and turned on his bed to cry in different positions. If he just let it out, it would eventually stop hurting as much and then he could pretend to be okay. Like none of it meant anything. Like Ed didn’t mean anything.

And then his phone rang.

He wiped at his face and cleared his throat, answering the phone on the fourth ring. He hadn’t even checked caller ID. “Hello?” he said, trying to keep his voice clear.

He heard something that sounded like Ed’s laugh on the other end and a shiver went down his spine. Was he hearing things now? 

“Oswald,” Ed cried, and Oswald sat up straight on the bed. “Please help me. I did something horrible.”

“What? Where are you? I’ll send a car for you--”

“No!” Ed shrieked. “Don’t send a car! Nobody can know! Please, just  _ please come _ .”

“What is it?” Oswald asked, immediately concerned. So much for pretending like Ed didn’t mean anything. “What happened?”

“I hurt my mom,” he answered with a sob. “I… I don’t--”

“Should I call an ambulance?”

“No! Why aren’t you listening?” Ed was sobbing and hyperventilating. He was obviously hysterical. “Just help me fix my mommy. Oswald, please, I hurt her so bad. My dad’s gonna kill me.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in an alley. Between my apartment and the one that smells like rotting fish.”

Oswald kept his laugh to himself. Of course Ed would focus on details like that, even in a horrible situation like this. “I’ll be there soon, okay, Ed? Just stay safe, alright?”

“Please, hurry,” Ed pleaded and Oswald hung up and shoved his boots on. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his work suit after returning home, as set as he’d been on wrapping himself in a blanket and listening to music until his heart healed.

He was out the door in no time at all. He didn’t even answer when his mother asked him where he was going.

* * *

 

Oswald walked down Ed and Ecco’s street, ignoring the sting at seeing the gas station where they had kissed just yesterday. It was irrelevant now.

He followed a trail of blood to the alley Ed had mentioned, feeling his stomach sink with dread with every step.

When he found Ed, he was on the ground, kneeling next to his mother. He was soaked in blood and tears and he was hyperventilating.

“Ed?” 

“Oswald!” he cried out, stumbling over on his knees. “I don’t know how it happened, but you have to fix her--She just--I hurt her and now--”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Oswald whispered gently. He slowly approached Ed and meant to stand next to him while observing the body, but Ed yanked him into an embrace, so Oswald crashed to his knees, damn his leg.

Ed sobbed into his chest and Oswald held him close. “It’s okay, Ed, shh, I’ve got you.” He carded his hand through Ed’s soft hair and observed the body from his position. She was definitely dead, her throat poked with holes and her eyes glazed over. “Shh. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Can you fix her?” Ed mumbled into his shirt. 

Oswald looked Ed’s mother in her dead eyes. “Ed, I think she’s dead.”

“No!” Ed screamed, so Oswald pressed his face closer to his chest to muffle the sound. “She was the only one who ever loved me--She was just trying to prove it to me and I got so upset! I didn’t mean to but--She was hurting me and I couldn’t stand it so I--”

“Shh, it’s okay.” Oswald pressed a kiss to Ed’s hair. They would address some of that later. Ed was clearly not in the right mindset to have a rational conversation. “It’s good you called me. We’ll get this taken care of and there won’t be anything to worry about, okay? Nobody’s ever gonna know, love, I promise.”

He helped Ed up, which was much harder than he thought it might be. His leg was already aching from the way he’d sat on it just know and Ed was not helping matters. He was heavy and didn’t seem to want to leave his mother. Every glance he threw in her direction would cause him to slip toward the ground again. 

“Shh, listen, Ed.” Oswald pushed Ed’s hair out of his face and cupped his cheek. “Let me take care of you, okay? Let me make all the bad stuff go away. Just keep your eyes here--” He gestured to his own eyes. “--and we’ll go to the apartment and get you washed up.”

“No!” Ed rasped. “Ecco is there--I don’t want her to see--All the blood--She’ll  _ know _ \--”

“Okay, okay, shh, we’ll go to my place. You can sleep in my bed. We’ll get you cleaned up, okay?” Ed nodded and Oswald kissed his forehead before helping him stand fully upright. 

He led Ed out of the alley and called Miss Mooney’s driver to pick them up. He pet Ed as he dialed Miss Mooney next, humming his mother’s favorite lullaby to keep him calm. 

“Miss Mooney,” he greeted when she picked up. “I need a clean up on 156th Street, by the Diamond Apartments.”

“Why?” she drawled, obviously intrigued. 

“I screwed up,” he explained. “I lost my temper and took it out on someone and now I need a clean up.” He felt Ed tense in his arms.

“Oswald, I thought I taught you not to be so hasty. It can cause quite a mess.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“You haven’t been yourself today. I’ll send you a crew. But remember this favor, boy.”

“Noted,” Oswald said, hanging up. He turned his attention back to Ed, rubbing circles against his back. It was only then, under the faint yellow light of the streetlamp that he realized Ed was wearing his hoodie. He saved that information for later. Right now wasn’t the time to bring up anything that might further upset Ed. “Are you okay?”

Ed shook his head viciously. “I killed her, Oswald--I couldn’t stop--”

“That’s okay. It’s gonna be taken care of, I promise.”

He kept petting Ed and humming softly to him until Fish’s car pulled up to the curb. The driver made to get out but Oswald held up a hand. He helped Ed inside and sat next to him, telling the driver his address. Ed immediately dropped his head onto Oswald’s shoulder and Oswald went back to holding him and humming to him.

“What is that song?” Ed mumbled after a while. He had appeared to calm down somewhat.

“It’s a lullaby my mom liked to sing to me when I was younger.”

“Please sing it for me,” Ed said.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Oswald said, suddenly feeling sick. He didn’t think Ed would appreciate the lyrics after what had just happened to him. “I’m a terrible singer,” he explained lamely. 

Ed didn’t say anything for a while, content to sit in silence as Oswald stroked his hair. 

“Oswald,” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell Fish that I was the one who… who did that?”

“It was easier than having to explain the situation. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done anything similar before. And I don’t want anyone knowing it was you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Ed burrowed his face into Oswald’s suit jacket. 

Oswald pressed another kiss into his hair, and then another.

It should maybe scare him, what he was willing to do for Ed, but it didn’t.

* * *

 

He helped Ed into the apartment, ignoring his mother when she jumped off the couch in shock.

“Oswald! What was happened! Are you hurt?”

Oswald chuckled and held Ed close to him. “No, we’re fine,” he said. “But there was a horrible accident on the road and a dog got run over by a semi-truck right in front of Ed. There was a lot of blood, so he got covered a bit. He’s in shock, so I’m gonna take care of him.”

Gertrud grinned. “Oh, that is wonderful!” She winked at her son and Oswald resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he smiled tightly and coaxed Ed gently toward the bathroom.

He shut the door and got Ed a clean towel from the shelf. “Do you want a bath or a shower?”

Ed didn’t answer and Oswald turned to see him slouching on the toilet seat, sniffling and wiping his face.

“Shower it is,” he said. “We’ll get you clean real quick and then off to bed, okay? It’ll be better in the morning.”

Ed remained silent, so Oswald turned the water on, making sure it wasn’t too cold or too hot. 

“Alright, how about we get those clothes off.” Oswald turned red right after the words came out. “I mean, I’ll go, and you can call me back when you’re done--”

Ed finally looked up, shaking his head and whimpering. “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay,” Oswald surrendered. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Ed smiled for the first time that evening, his eyes still shining with tears and his face red with blood. Oswald thought he was beautiful. 

“Let’s start with the hoodie,” Oswald said, getting Ed to his feet. He unzipped it and helped it off Ed’s shoulders.

“I got it bloody,” Ed explained. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Oswald huffed out a laugh. “I have plenty of hoodies.”

Oswald folded the hoodie in half and laid it over the sink. “Sweater next so arms up.” He lifted his own arms in pantomime and Ed hesitated but eventually mimicked him so Oswald could yank the sweater off. The shirt under came as well and Oswald exhaled shakily at the myriad of scars on his chest. 

Yet another thing to be addressed later.

Oswald bent down to get Ed’s shoes and socks off, setting them neatly aside. “My mom will clean all your clothes. She knows how to get blood stains out.”

Ed nodded in understanding. Oswald got back to standing position.

“Can you… uh… take your pants off? But, uh, you can keep your underwear on.” Ed nodded, a tinge of pink of his cheeks as he obeyed. Oswald averted his eyes and tried the water again to make sure the temperature was alright.

Oswald helped him into the shower. “See, you’re just fine.” He smiled wide. “We’ll just get clean and then go to bed.”

He waited outside the shower curtain for Ed to finish up, but Ed peeked out the curtain, his lower lip trembling. “Help me?”

“Of course.”

“I can’t hold anything right,” Ed explained, as if Oswald needed a reason to help him. “My hands keep shaking.”

Oswald was quick to get his boots and slacks off, setting them down in far less neat of a fashion than he had with Ed’s clothes. He pulled his jacket and shirt off, his cross-tie falling sadly to the floor, and got in with Ed. “Okay, I’ll clean you,” he said. 

He washed Ed’s hair, gently massaging into his scalp and then rinsing. The height difference made it a bit of a hassle, having to get to his tip-toes to reach Ed’s head. His leg hated it but it was worth the pain. He lathered up a sponge and got to work getting the blood off of Edward’s skin, being as careful as he could around the scars. He noticed red marks on one of his wrists and grit his teeth in anger that someone would dare to hurt him like this.

Once the blood was washed off and Ed was clean as a whistle, Oswald gave him grin and shut the water off. He fetched the towel and dried off his hair before wrapping it around his shoulders tightly.

He reached up to kiss Ed’s nose, unable to resist the urge. It had been dripping with water, after all. Ed giggled, somewhat wearily. He was tired.

“Alright, let’s go.” Oswald had Ed sit on his old swivel chair while he got some clean clothes--the loosest and baggiest he could find.

The shirt was a normal fit on Ed, but the flannel pants were far too short on his long legs. At least they fit around his waist.

After dressing in some comfortable clothes of his own, Oswald helped Ed to bed and tucked him in, giving him a quick kiss in his wet hair before running out of the room. 

“Mom,” he said, trying to make this quick. “Could you clean the clothes in the bathroom? I have to keep an eye on Ed. He’s really… uh… messed up about this.”

“Poor boy,” Gertrud cried. “I will clean clothes. I cannot imagine how horrible it was for Edward.”

“Me either,” Oswald replied solemnly. 

When he went back to the room, Ed immediately turned his head up to look at him.

“Please don’t leave again.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Oswald got on his knees on the floor to rest his head against his crossed arms on the bed. He gazed at Ed and reached over to push a bit of hair out of his face. 

“She--” Ed started, exhaling deeply before continuing. “She was hurting me, so I got nervous. Scared. I--I just wanted it to stop so I stabbed her with the brooch and then she was bleeding and screaming and to make her stop screaming I stabbed her more and then she wasn’t blinking anymore and I don’t know what to do.” He was crying again, tears falling onto the pillow.

“Shh,” Oswald said, moving to wipe the tears away. “She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“But I shouldn’t have--”

“She shouldn’t have hurt you. You were just defending yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, Ed. Not a thing.”

“But,” Ed started, voice wobbling. “I hurt her and she--she’s the only one who ever loved me. That’s what she said. And I killed her--Oh, God, I killed her--”

“She is not the only one who loved you, Ed,” Oswald said firmly. “She didn’t love you. What she did wasn’t love. If she loved you, she wouldn’t have hurt you.”

That just made Ed cry more. “Not even my own mother could love me.”

“She was a fool,” Oswald said bitterly. “She was an idiot. You are the most beautiful, intelligent, wonderful man I have ever met, Ed. You’re funny and cute and sweet and so many people are gonna love you.”

Ed shook his head stubbornly. “It’s not true. I’m impossible to love. Nobody’s gonna love me.”

“I do,” Oswald said softly, running a hand through Ed’s hair. “So much. I can’t imagine not loving you.”

More tears dripped from Ed’s eyes. “You mean that?” he asked. “You love me?”

“So much,” Oswald repeated, leaning over to kiss Ed on the cheek. “Now, go to sleep. I promise you’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Ed nodded, smiling weakly.

Oswald pet him until he fell asleep. He watched Ed’s sleeping face for a thirteen minutes more until he fell asleep too, head nestled in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 13 is unlucky, lucky, just a number...
> 
> Also "I Think We're Alone Now" is not an original but TBM did a fantastic cover and it's so soft I had to make it the chapter title.


	14. Unfamiliar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took a while for me to update  
> FEELINGS, amirite???  
> anyway heres 3k+ of fluff

Ed woke up in a room that wasn’t his.

The sunlight stung his eyes for a moment before he blinked the pain away and was able to make out the posters on the wall, the magazines on the bedside table, the cigarette smell, the fluffy black hair on the edge of the bed…

Oswald.

Ed remembered with an agonizing tug at his heartstrings that he had killed his own mother last night.

 _“She’s dead.”_ That’s what Oswald had said. Dead. Dead. Dead as a doornail.

The memory of Oswald finding him was blurry and unclear but he did know that Oswald had held him and whispered softly to him, calming him down.

They’d showered together. Ed’s face heated, wishing he’d been more aware of what was happening in the moment so that he could do more than simply stand there and have Oswald wash his hair.

And then the most shocking thing—the thing that had Ed’s head spinning and his blood racing—was recalling vividly that Oswald _loved_ him.

Ed carded his fingers through Oswald’s hair, love of his life, and all that. _The feeling is mutual._

It was selfish of him but he wanted Oswald awake, so he could reiterate what he’d said last night and then they could start afresh.

“Oswald,” he hissed, shaking his shoulder.

Oswald woke up with a groan, slowly sticking his face up to look at Ed. His hair was an absolute mess and his makeup from yesterday was now two streaks down his cheeks, a result of a shower instead of proper removal.

“Good morning,” he said in a husky voice and Ed’s heart sped at the thought that perhaps his voice was like that at the sight of _him_ and not because he’d just woken up.

“Good morning,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss Oswald’s cheek.

“Fuck,” Oswald breathed out, shifting his attention to his leg. “Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea to sleep like this?”

Ed scooted over on the bed and patted the vacant spot next to him. “Lie down,” he invited. Oswald didn’t hesitate before climbing onto the bed next to him, sighing with relief at finally relaxing his leg.

“I’m sorry,” Ed said. “Last night, I should’ve let you sleep on the bed. I wasn’t thinking—“

Oswald shushed him. “Don’t worry about it. I was only worried about you. My leg aching a bit is a small price to pay for you sleeping well.”

Ed wanted to argue that he would’ve slept better with Oswald holding him, but he decided it would accomplish nothing to debate the point.

“You feeling better?” Oswald asked gently, soothing the loose, curly hair from Ed’s forehead. Ed nodded. “Good. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s important to me that you know that.”

“I killed someone,” Ed protested. “My own mother, no less.”

“She hurt you.” Oswald cupped Ed’s face so that he had no choice but to look him in the eyes. “You were protecting yourself. Ed, listen to me. It was self-defense.”

“No.” Ed shook his head despondently. “I wanted to do it.”

“I don’t blame you for that.” Oswald huffed out a laugh. “I did too when I met her. But I didn’t know she was hurting you or I would’ve—“ He trailed off, face reddening.

“You love me,” Ed said, reaching his hand up to grasp the one Oswald had on his face. Oswald nodded. “You said you didn’t.”

“I thought I… I thought I couldn’t make you happy. That I’d ruin your life.” Oswald averted Ed’s gaze, obviously still troubled by that insecurity.

Ed smacked Oswald’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Oswald rubbed at his shoulder. “What the fuck?”

“You make me _happy_ , Oswald. Don’t ever say anything like that again. And my life was already ruined. You can’t possibly wreck it any further.”

“Okay,” Oswald whispered. “I realized I made a mistake as soon as I saw you in the alley. Before, I thought I was doing you a favor. And you were out ditching work and kissing girls so I figured you were doing just fine without me.”

Ed’s face lit on fire at the memory of Isabella asking for a kiss. It was faint and distant, overshadowed by everything that took place after. “She was a lesbian, Oswald. I only kissed her so she could take a picture to show her parents they shouldn’t be concerned about her girlfriend coming over.”

“Oh.” Oswald smiled bashfully. “I suppose I should’ve guessed as much. You aren’t exactly a casanova.”

“I can’t imagine replacing you with someone else in only a few hours. But… You were jealous?”

Oswald groaned. “A little bit.”

Ed beamed. “You’re really in love with me?”

“So much. You have no idea how much.”

Ed giggled, feeling his heart glow violet inside of him, fit to burst. “It can’t be more than I love you.”

Oswald didn’t say anything, just watched with no small amount of affection—affection… for _Ed_?—as Ed pulled his hand from his face to press the back of it to his lips. “I loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“You’re a true romantic, aren’t you?” Oswald chuckled. “Love at first sight.”

“It’s true.”

“I might not have loved you at first, but you’re it for me, Ed. There’s nobody else.”

Ed pressed another kiss to Oswald’s hand. “Not even Victor?”

Oswald laughed. “He doesn’t even come close.”

Ed hummed in satisfaction. “Good.” He held Oswald’s hand to his cheek and nuzzled against it. “Did you know you have very nice hands?”

Oswald laughed some more. “Nice hands? Is this a fetish of yours?”

“No,” Ed bit out, blushing. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I like your hands too. And your cheekbones. And your eyes. And your hair. Especially when it’s completely fucked and curly like it is now.”

Ed grinned. “I like your hands and your nose.” He released Oswald’s hand so he could boop him on the nose. “Your eyes. They’re my favorite color, you know.” He made an effort to memorize the way Oswald’s eyelashes fluttered at the compliment. “And your mouth.”

Suddenly, Oswald surged forward to kiss him. Ed was certain his heart exploded in his ribcage, staining the bone with purple. He looped his arms around Oswald’s neck to pull him closer and Oswald gripped at his hips, apparently more inclined to touch than he’d been the last time they kissed.

Ed gasped against Oswald’s mouth but before the situation could escalate, the door was being flung open.

“Mom!” Oswald squawked, sitting up angrily. “Learn to knock! It’s rude to walk in on people!”

Gertrud sniffed unhappily. “I stay up late doing laundry for boyfriend and now make breakfast and my boy yells at me.”

Oswald sighed with exasperation. Ed wasn’t bothered by Gertrud’s sudden entry, though he was embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising position. He was more preoccupied with the fact that Gertrud had just referred to him as Oswald’s boyfriend and Oswald hadn’t denied it.

“We’ll be right out,” Oswald said impatiently, one of his hands still resting stubbornly on Ed’s hip. Gertrud pouted but turned around anyway, leaving the door wide open. “Dammit,” Oswald hissed.

Ed pulled Oswald down for one more kiss, tasting light on his lips. Isabella’s kisses had been almost painful, dry, _dull_.

Kissing Oswald was like drowning.

They pulled away from each other, breathless.

“I’m hungry,” Ed said and Oswald rolled his eyes before getting out of bed and helping Ed up too.

Gertrud had made an impressive spread: sunny side-up eggs, toast, cut tomatoes, cold cuts, cheese, and juice. Ed hadn’t eaten in quite some time, not since the pretzel Isabella had bought for him at the mall the day before. His stomach growled in anticipation so he sat quickly next to Oswald and across from Gertrud.

“You sleep well?” she asked, pouring them juice.

Ed nodded.

“That is good. I was scared Oswald would keep you up all night.”

“ _Mom_!” Oswald hissed, face reddening. Only at Oswald’s reaction did Ed understand what Gertrud was implying, and his face heated too.

“I had walked in on such a scene. Your poor mother is right to worry. It is not the first time you’ve let her walk in—“

“Mom, we just slept, that’s it.”

“And take shower together. Mothers know these things.”

Ed stuck a slice of cheese into his mouth, too embarrassed to eat much else.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Oswald said harshly. “Did you wash Ed’s clothes?”

“Yes, I put them on the top of dryer.”

“Great.”

They ate in silence for a while, the awkwardness dissipating somewhat when Oswald hooked his ankle around Ed’s between their chairs.

“This is a very nice breakfast,” Ed said. “Thank you.”

“Of course!” Gertrud exclaimed excitedly. “You are my boy’s first boyfriend, after all!”

Oswald cleared his throat. “We haven’t exactly discussed that, yet—“

“I want you to think of me as your own mother.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Oswald hissed again, like he was trying to send her some sort of signal.

“Of course,” Gertrud attempted, glancing over at her son hesitantly. “You can have two mothers.”

“Actually,” Ed said, voice catching on the guilt in his throat. “My mother… uh… _passed away_ recently.”

Oswald remained silent but Gertrud gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh! That is horrible!” She jumped off her chair to wrap her warm arms around Ed’s neck. “You poor boy!”

Ed blinked in surprise. Being held like this by someone he didn’t know all that well was incredibly discomfiting, but he allowed her to squeeze him tight until she tore away and pinched his cheek.

“You are always welcome here,” she said earnestly, eyes bubbling over with tears.

Ed nodded. “Thank you.”

“I am your mother now,” she declared, spreading her arms as though she were making a royal decree.

“Mom, stop,” Oswald scolded, chewing on his toast.

“It’s fine,” Ed said. Her protectiveness despite having only met him a couple times was endearing and reassuring. It was far more than his own mother had ever done for him.

After breakfast, Oswald and Ed got washed up in the bathroom. Ed used a spare toothbrush Oswald found in a package under the sink and they brushed their teeth elbow to elbow. Oswald spit his toothpaste out much earlier than Ed did. Ed liked to be thorough, though he’d recently become nervous about overbrushing.

Ed dressed in his clothes from yesterday and then held the hoodie out to return it to Oswald.

“You left it in my room when you… when you left.”

Oswald looked at it, biting his lip. “I thought you’d throw it away,” he confessed. “I figured because of the way I hurt you—“

“I love you,” Ed blurted out. “As soon as I saw you forgot it, I put it on and I didn’t take it off until the… the shower.”

“You can keep it if it means that much to you,” Oswald said with a smile.

“Okay,” Ed agreed, returning the smile. “But you have to wear it sometimes so it still smells like you.”

Oswald chuckled. “Deal.”

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the day at the apartment. They kissed lazily on Oswald’s bed for the whole morning, taking breaks to talk about everything and nothing.

Ed confessed about the birds, about his parents, about the belt, and Oswald kissed along his jaw as he spoke, as if to kiss the pain away.

Oswald talked about breaking his leg, feeling worthless, hopeless…

They both discovered they had far more in common than they thought.

Ed was falling more and more in love the more time passed, something he couldn’t have imagined was even possible.

Thankfully the door was closed for their kissing intervals, because Ed was quickly discovering that he lacked restraint.

If Oswald bit his lip, Ed would sigh happily. If Oswald ran his hand under the hoodie, Ed would swing his leg around his waist. If Oswald’s breath hitched, Ed would grab at his black hair to pull him closer.

Eventually, the only clear thoughts Ed had were _more, closer, please, Oswald_.

Oswald was unzipping the hoodie and kissing at Ed’s neck when Gertrud’s voice called, “It is time to make dinner!”

Oswald swore under his breath and pulled away from Ed to shout back, “Okay!”

When Oswald went back to his interrupted business, he ran his tongue over the length of Ed’s throat and he couldn’t help but whimper as a result. It was embarrassing, but Oswald didn’t seem to mind, continuing his ministrations to make Ed moan or purr or whimper.

“What would you like for dinner?” called Gertrud again.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Oswald snapped, tearing away from Ed and getting out of bed, fixing his hair and smoothing down his shirt. “Come on, let’s just talk to her for a bit. She won’t let up on this.”

Ed blinked, still somewhat in a daze. He appreciated Gertrud for all she’d done in just the past day alone but he was still disappointed that the kissing and the touching had come to an end. “Okay,” he said anyway, zipping his hoodie again.

They walked into the kitchen and at the sight of them, Gertrud gasped and covered her eyes. “You boys are not fit for kitchen!”

“Can you make chicken?” Oswald asked in a deadpan voice, ignoring her dramatics. “I’m kinda craving fried chicken.”

Gertrud shook her head, forgetting her own hang-ups as she lowered her hands away from her eyes in a show of indignation. “That is not healthy! I tell you to let mother feed you and you go out to KFC and eat such bad food. You will get bad cholesterol. Listen to your mother.”

“I asked if you’d make it. You literally _asked_ what we wanted.”

“I will make csirkepaprikas,” Gertrud announced, turning away from her son to fetch ingredients from the fridge.

“Did you ask just so we’d have to stop?” Oswald asked. When Gertrud remained silent, Oswald grew more frustrated and Ed fiddled with the zipper on the hoodie. “I can’t believe my own mother cockblocked me.”

“You can do that somewhere else,” she whined, finally whipping around with packaged chicken in her hands. “I do not want to hear my boys moaning like that. Very uncomfortable.”

“You heard us?” Ed asked, dropping the zipper, his blood running cold.

“Mom!” Oswald admonished. “He’s my boyfriend! I’m allowed to kiss him!”

Ed beamed despite the embarrassing situation. _Boyfriend…_

Gertrud unpackaged the chicken, pouting. “That was not kissing. That was more than kissing.”

“We weren’t gonna do anything!”

That was news to Ed.

Gertrud placed the chicken on the cutting board and started chopping. “You will help with dinner, yes?”

Oswald answered, “Definitely not,” just when Ed said, “Certainly.”

Oswald threw him a meaningful look but Ed just shrugged. How was he supposed to know not to offer help?

“Oswald can sit on couch while Ed and I make dinner.”

Oswald grumbled but did as his mother commanded, falling on the couch and flipping through the channels on the TV.

Gertrud walked Ed through the recipe, helping him make the noodles until he got the hang of it.

“Make sure they are not too thin,” she instructed and took a step back to observe him perform the action solo.

Ed had never made homemade noodles before so he was nervous, but Gertrud watched as he pulled the dough through the pasta maker with a grin.

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands excitedly.

Ed grinned at the praise and looked up to see Oswald’s attention wasn’t on the TV. Instead, he was looking at Ed, eyes soft and smile proud. He looked in love and Ed smiled back, because he was in love too.

Gertrud assisted Ed in making the sauce while she cooked the chicken. “The perfect amount of paprika,” she said, taking a break from the meat in the pan to demonstrate. “To bring out as much flavor in chicken as we can.”

“Ah, I see,” Ed remarked. He would have to save this recipe for later, to cook for Ecco.

Oh no. Ecco.

Ed made a mental note to call her after dinner.

Eventually dinner was ready and Ed filled with pride at Gertrud’s praise at his good job.

“Ed is such good helper,” she called over to Oswald as they set the table. “He does good work with noodles.”

Oswald took a seat at the table, the same one he took for breakfast. “Suck up,” he mouthed to Ed when Gertrud headed back to the kitchen to fetch the silverware. Ed flushed at the tease but he was also happy. His _boyfriend’s_ mother liked him.

It was ridiculous, perhaps, but it was little details like this that had Ed thinking leaps and bounds into the future, marrying Oswald and gaining a legal family to care about him.

He told his heart and overeager brain to steady. They hadn’t even been together for a whole day and he was already thinking about marriage.

The food was as delicious as it smelled, and Ed swelled with confidence when Oswald moaned at the first bite.

“Isn’t Edward good cook?” Gertrud asked, voice giddy.

“Mhmm.” Oswald took another bite and when his mother was distracted for a moment with serving herself, he leaned closer to Ed. “You’re going to cook for me everyday, right?”

“I would love to,” Ed preened.

“A hot boyfriend who can cook? I really hit the jackpot, huh?”

Ed blushed. He wanted to hold his hand.

Gertrud changed the subject by asking about Ed’s work (“Though of course, Oswald has told me all about how you work at the library!”) and they continued to eat and talk for a while until their plates were clean. Gertrud sat up straight quickly and decided they should all play card games for a bit.

They all had Hungarian names, and the rules were simple enough once explained properly, but Ed wasn’t used to playing games that required more than one person. Participating in his school Chess Club had been the closest thing, and once the bird thing reached his classmates’ ears, even the dorks in Chess Club aimed to make his life a living hell.

Oswald was competitive and vicious but Ed had the sneaking suspicion that he was going easy on his mother, who would cheer with delight every time she won a round.

Ed didn’t mention it, just watched as Oswald mercilessly destroyed him while making a show of protesting when his mom got a leg up.

Ed _loved_ him.

After several rounds of a few different games, Oswald announced suddenly that he was exhausted and needed to get to bed. He tugged at Ed’s shirt for him to follow but Gertrud stopped him.

“I will say few things to him first,” she said firmly. “You go get clean for bed.”

Oswald rolled his eyes but obeyed, leaving Ed alone with his mother.

“You are my boy now,” she started. “And I know already what you will say, but if you hurt my son, I will be unhappy.”

“I would be too,” Ed assured her. “I don’t ever want to see him in pain, Ms. Kapelput, I swear to you.”

“Good. If you break this promise, I will kill you.”

Ed nodded solemnly. He needed her to know he took her warning seriously.

She smiled then. “But I know you will not hurt him,” she said, pulling him into yet another hug over the table. Ed strained from the uncomfortable angle but allowed her to cling to him. “He misses you so much. He cried all day yesterday about you.”

Ed froze, his heart aching at the thought that Oswald missed him too.

“I missed him too,” he confessed. “I miss him whenever we’re apart.”

“You are good for him,” Gertrud said. “He already goes out less, spends more time with his mother, talking about Edward.”

Ed was bashful at this onslaught of information. Oswald _loved_ him. Would it ever sink in or even make sense?

“Thank you for making my boy happy,” Gertrud said with a smile, reaching forward to cup Ed’s face with her hands.

Ed allowed the touch, grateful for Gertrud’s words, but was eager to get away from it. He bid her a good night and fled to Oswald’s bedroom, where the object of his undying love sat.

Ed got ready for bed wordlessly, occasionally looking up to meet his _boyfriend’s_ gaze, in the middle of pulling his jeans off of tugging a sleep shirt on.

He got into bed next to Oswald when he was done getting ready, their fingers finding each other and interlacing under the covers.

“Is this a dream or is it real?” Ed asked, only to be met with a shrug.

“It would be even weirder if it wasn’t real,” Oswald said. “Do you often dream about cooking with people’s moms? Getting ‘The Talk’ before bed?”

Ed giggled. “No, I usually just dream about kissing you.”

“This is gonna sound so lame, but…” Oswald placed a hand on Ed’s cheek. “I can make your dreams come true.”

“Please do!” Ed inched closer on the bed, shutting his eyes in anticipation.

Oswald kissed him, sweet and chaste until Ed got impatient and opened his mouth. Oswald allowed this and they made out for a while until Ed guided Oswald’s hand under his shirt.

“Jesus,” Oswald huffed out, pulling away and wiping his mouth. “Ed, I’m not gonna fuck you here.”

Ed pouted against the pillow. “Why not?”

“My mom is in the next room, for one,” Oswald said. “And having sex in my childhood bedroom isn’t exactly romantic.”

“It could be,” Ed protested. “I’m in love with you. There. Romance.”

“I want it to be special. For you. It’s your first time, Ed.”

Ed had more to say. _It didn’t seem like a problem for you last time. We can be romantic next time. I just want you so bad._

Oswald cut him off before he could start, however. “I just want to hold you, like this.” He wrapped an arm around Ed’s waist and pulled him close. “We’ll do it soon, I promise. Just not right now. Not here.”

“Okay,” Ed conceded, hugging him back and snuggling into his neck. “This is nice.”

“It is,” Oswald agreed.

They pet each other’s hair and when that got tiring, they silently rested in each other’s arms until the warmth and the lullaby of steady breathing lulled them to sleep.

Ed was lost in dreams of Oswald saying, “I love you,” on heavenly repeat, deaf to the vibrating of his phone on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *raymond holt voice* ed is a THIRSTY BITCH


	15. Horror Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update took FOREVER!!!!
> 
> very sorry about that, but it was so hard wrapping this story up and i restarted and scrapped many drafts before settling on this one.  
> forgive me for taking liberties with the way libraries work. i've only ever been a patron! 
> 
> thank you to everyone who waited patiently for an update! you are the cat's pajamas!!! <3  
> (special thanks to heath for beta reading almost every chapter and validating me so i had the courage to post <3 ilysm!!!!)

Ed had seven missed calls from Ecco the next morning. 

He called her back while Oswald was sticking his head out the window to smoke (Gertrud hated the smell of cigarettes and was convinced that her son had quit). 

“Ecco, hi,” Ed said when she finally picked up on the fourth ring. “You called me a bunch last night--”

“Oh, yeah, hi,” Ecco spat. “Long time, no contact at all!”

Ed startled at the sharpness of her tone. “What--”

“The last time I saw you, your mom was making you go out with some girl to quit your job and then you just disappeared! I thought you were  _ dead _ !”

Ed felt shot with guilt. Ecco was his first friend ever, the first person to treat him with any kindness after he escaped his home life. And his way of repaying her was to ghost her? Ridiculous.

“I’m so sorry, Ecco,” he blurted. “So much happened and I got overwhelmed. It’s no excuse, but I really never meant to worry you.”

Ecco sniffed audibly on the other end. “You’re lucky I love you so much. So I forgive you.”

“I love you too,” Ed replied, his face breaking into a grin. “Speaking of love--”

“Wait, before you tell me what happened--and it better be good, Ed--I have to tell you something.” There was a long pause, where Ed could hear Ecco exhale deeply. “I didn’t call you last night just to yell at you. Even though you do deserve it. I was warning you not to come home.”

“What? Why not?”

“There was some wacko screaming for you and banging on the door and he stayed out in the hall for two whole hours! I was really scared that he wanted to hurt you!”

“Are you okay?” Ed asked, prompting Oswald to peek his head back into the room. “Do you know who it was?” He was already pretty sure he knew who it was, but if Ecco could confirm or deny, it would clear things up. 

“No, I stayed quiet until he left.” Ecco cleared her throat. “Was it your dad?”

Ed nodded foolishly, forgetting that she couldn’t see him. “Yes, probably.”

“Shit, Ed.” 

He sat back on the bed as Oswald put out his cigarette and reclined against the pillows. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t get dragged back to Metropolis, then?”

“No,” Ed said, glancing uncertainly at Oswald, who was now scrolling through his phone. “I’m at Oswald’s--”

“ _ What?! _ ” Ecco shouted into the receiver, forcing Ed to recoil. “Have you been at his place this whole time? How did you shake your mom off?”

“I… uh… got rid of her,” Ed muttered. “And Oswald helped me. And we’re maybe… together now?”

Ecco squealed and Oswald finally pulled his gaze away from his phone to glare at Ed. “Maybe?”

Ed smiled. “Yes, we’re together.”

“For real?!” Ecco asked, excitedly. “Oh my God! Ivy and I have been wanting Ozzie to find a boyfriend in so long! We really wanna go on double dates with people who are an actual couple! It’s so boring going out with Bruce and Selina because they always argue and they never agree on anything and they  _ swear _ it’s not romantic even though they’re pretty much always kissing--”

“Yes, well,” Ed turned his back on Oswald, embarrassed for him to see how red his face was. “We are. And we have. Kissed. And all that.”

He heard a chuckle behind him but when he spun around, Oswald’s face was expressionless and his eyes were locked on his phone screen. Ed glowered in his direction before turning around again.

“You  _ kissed _ ?!” Ecco yelled. “Did you fu--”

“No,” Ed hissed, tensing now that he knew Oswald was listening in. “He said we should wait.”

This time, Oswald did more than chuckle. He snorted, then devolved into a small fit of giggles. Ed turned once again to see Oswald pretending like he hadn’t done anything, still looking at his phone. 

“Shut up,” he said anyway.

“I didn’t say anything,” Oswald responded, blinking innocently.

“You two are so gross!” Ecco exclaimed. “We really do need to go on that double date sometime. Well, anyway, I think the threat is over because the guy hasn’t been back and if your mom’s off your tail, then your dad will probably back off too. And then you can come home!” 

They hung up shortly after that, with Ed wondering if Ecco was being overly optimistic or if it was that he just knew his father better than she did.

“Everything okay?” Oswald asked. Ed nodded and curled up at his  _ boyfriend _ ’s side. 

His father didn’t matter one bit when he had everything he had ever wanted right next to him.

* * *

 

~~ Day one he killed his mom. ~~

Day one Oswald told him he loved him back.

Day two was spent kissing and cuddling and talking to Gertrud.

Day three was spent touching.

Ed was utterly euphoric but also entirely anguished. 

He was in the perpetual presence of his most beloved deity with no altar to worship on.

As lovely as Gertrud was, Ed began to resent her constantly hanging around the apartment.

For an hour, she vacated the premises to buy some groceries and Ed begged Oswald to take advantage of the opportunity.

Instead, Oswald kissed him senseless and told him they’d have to wait just a little bit longer. Ed swallowed his temper tantrum and let Oswald kiss his complaints away.

Spending all day cuddling and napping and making out was all at once dreamlike, beautiful, and disgusting.

Ed’s head started to glaze over with the idleness, his hair messy from laying around for hours.

Oswald got antsy at one point, so he opened the tiny window above the bed again and lit another cigarette, smoking with his head sticking outside. “God, it’s still so fucking cold,” he remarked. “When’s spring gonna show up?”

“Why do you smoke?” Ed asked.

“You want a drag?” Oswald offered his cigarette down. 

“No, thank you.” Ed pushed Oswald’s hand away. “You ignored my question.”

Oswald grumbled something under his breath, moving his cigarette back to his lips. It was hard for Ed to see him properly, since he was still laying down with his head against the pillow, where Oswald’s knees were resting while he smoked. 

“When I was in high school, I stole a pack from a bodega. I was just gonna try it and then never touch them again. I figured I would hate it. But I didn’t.” He shrugged. “They’re addictive and all that shit. And they feel like heaven.”

Ed didn’t think cigarettes could compare to kissing, which was true heaven. “You could get cancer. Respiratory diseases. Yellow teeth.” 

Oswald laughed. “Yeah, I guess I’ve never really been that scared of death. I always figured I’ll die one way or another.”

“But it would be nice if you lived longer,” Ed argued. 

“You want me to quit?” Oswald asked, pulling his head back inside to make eye contact with Ed. 

Ed bit his lip and nodded. 

Oswald sighed. Then he put out the cigarette and flicked it out the window. “Fine. For you. I’ll try.”

That was easy.

“It’s a hard habit to stop,” Ed said. “I’m just glad you would consider it.”

Oswald went back to laying position beside Ed. “God, Ed, I would do anything you asked of me.”

Ed felt his face grow hot. “But you won’t…”

Oswald rolled his eyes. “Oh my God, Ed.” He groaned. “You’re so horny.” 

Ed sat up, sputtering. “Wha--No--That’s not what I was saying--”

“It’s not?” 

Ed zipped the hoodie up to his mouth. “I was just pointing something out.”

Oswald tugged at the hood, pulling Ed into his arms. “It’s not for lack of  _ want _ , I promise.”

Ed gasped. “Oswald, please.”

“You’d be perfect, I just know it.” Ed burrowed his face into Oswald’s neck, to both hide his blush and to inhale the smell of his skin. “But, this place is so dingy. You deserve better like… uh… candles or silk sheets or something.” Oswald ran his fingers through Ed’s hair. “Dim lighting. Rose petals.”

Ed was unimpressed. “Candles are a fire hazard. And dim lighting could hurt my eyes and then I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

“You’re always complaining.”

Ed bit back a retort about how he wouldn’t have a reason to complain if Oswald didn’t have these dumb hangups about how _special_ and _romantic_ the first time had to be and instead said, “Sorry.”

They lay there in silence for a long moment until Oswald said, “You’re still pissed. I can feel you fuming.”

Ed refused to affirm anything and simply pushed his face deeper into Oswald’s skin.

* * *

 

The next morning, Ed went home. It was a strange sensation leaving Oswald’s apartment, since he’d been there for a couple days and had done a good job forgetting there was a world outside of it. 

Oswald had been reluctant to let him leave, but eventually Ed was able to convince him that it was a necessary evil. After all, he was still technically employed and he needed to sit down and talk to Ecco about everything that happened.

So Ed got off his bus and, with no small amount of trepidation, entered his apartment building, nervous that his father would be lurking around any corner.

The bus ride had been terrifying. With no Oswald there to distract him, his mind immediately wandered back to his mother and that peacock brooch and all the  _ blood _ .

His father must  _ know _ .

“Ecco?” he called out softly as he closed the apartment door shut behind him, making sure to lock it for safety.

“Ed!” Ecco’s voice screamed from her bedroom, and suddenly he saw a flash of red and black and messy blonde hair--

\--And then he was on the ground with an armful of Ecco.

She hugged him tight and mumbled over and over again, “I missed you! I was so worried about you! Idiot!” 

She finally got off of him, sitting on her knees on the floor as Ed sat up next to her. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. 

“You’re so stupid,” she said. “Why didn’t you  _ tell  _ me your family is psycho?”

Ed blushed with shame, averting his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I was just paranoid. I didn’t want anyone to find out because… what if....”

And after all his worst fears  _ had  _ come true, and Essen had figured it out and brought his parents to his front door.

Ecco sighed and pulled him in for another hug. He blinked in slight discomfort as his face was squished against the fabric of her t-shirt, but he didn’t pull away until she released him.

“I understand,” she said morosely. “But I just want you to know that if you had told me, I would have protected you better. And I’ll protect you now. Against your dumb dad.”

“Ecco, you don’t have to--”

Ecco silenced him with a glare. “Ed Nygma, you are my best friend and my  _ roommate _ . If you weren’t here to cook for me, what would I eat? Froot Loops for every meal?”

“Is that what you ate before I moved in?” Ed asked with revulsion.

“Irrelevant!” She held her finger up as a signal for him to be quiet. “I would do anything for you because I  _ love  _ you. So would Ivy and so would Oswald. I know it was hard to put faith in us before, because you were scared. I get it. Believe me, I understand. But know this now: you can trust us with anything because we’re your  _ friends _ .”

Ecco placed her hands on either side of his face and started pulling at his cheeks. It was the only thing keeping Ed from tearing up, so he was grateful.

“Thank you, Ecco.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Ecco shrugged, getting to her feet and helping Ed up as well. “Let’s talk it out and figure everything out together. You’re not alone anymore.”

Ed had probably felt smaller doses of this with his friends in Gotham before, of feeling like he was welcome and maybe even worth caring about. But in this moment, all the other times were miniscule. He wasn’t just welcome, he was  _ loved _ , by not only Oswald, but Ecco and Ivy as well. His stomach felt warm with the revelation and he was smiling even as they sat on the couch and turned on some TV for background noise.

“When I was six, my dad left,” Ecco confessed casually, playing with the frayed threads of a hole in her ripped black jeans. “I don’t have a lot of memories of him, but what I do remember isn’t great. My mom wasn’t so much better either because after Daddy Dearest left, he became kinda depressed. Better than nothing, I guess. So I understand a bit of what it’s like. Shit parents are the worst.”

Ed stared at his friend, suddenly furious at Ecco’s parents for mistreating her or  _ leaving  _ her when she was so incredible and funny and--

“Isn’t it kinda silly?” Ecco giggled. “We could’ve bonded over our mean dads all along but we’re only doing it now, months after we’ve met and moved in together.”

Ed smiled as Ecco snorted out more laughs. Her laughter eventually subsided and his smile faded.

“I…” She told him to trust her so he was gonna jump right into it and hope for the best. “I killed my mom.”

Ecco’s face grew somber. “What?”

“Isabella helped me escape but my mom found me again and she was  _ hurting  _ me and she was going to take me away so I… I just wanted her to stop…”

Ecco was silent for a long time, mouth slightly ajar and eyes wide. 

Maybe she didn’t mean for him to trust her with something like  _ this _ . In retrospect, maybe this was a horrible idea. Was it too late to laugh it off and claim that it was all just a dumb joke?  _ Yeah, I’m kidding. My mom completely listened to me when I said I didn’t wanna go so she went back home and I did not kill her even a little bit. _

“Oh my God, Ed, are you okay?” Ed blinked in surprise. “How badly did she hurt you? Are you on the run from the law now? What did you do with the bod--Oh…. So  _ that’s  _ why you called Oswald.”

Ed reddened. “I actually don’t even remember calling him. I was delirious and--”

“But he came and took care of you?” 

Ed nodded and Ecco squealed. 

“God, you two are so cute! We should go on that double date ASAP!”

Ecco didn’t pry much further about the murder of his mother, just promising that she would take care of him. For the most part, she was content to ask probing question after probing question about Gertrud and Oswald and dinner and lying in bed and kissing.

And Ed was content to answer.

* * *

 

Ed cooked for Ecco that night--vegetable stir fry and rice since they were running a bit low on specific ingredients due to Ed’s absence--and they binge watched a horror series.

Ed tried to refrain from being a “buzzkill” about the gratuitous violence, and it was a little easier than usual because now he knew what it looked like in real life when blood gushed out of a pierced throat like a geyser.

It was nice comparing reality with movies.

The next day, he went to work. To say he was nervous about it would be an understatement. 

He hadn’t seen Essen since he gave her that cupcake on his birthday and he still wasn’t sure how to talk to her about the whole situation with his parents.

He entered the library and was shocked by how it felt like years since he’d last been there. 

He had somehow missed the almost random scattering of tables and chairs and the pseudo-sensible organizational system.

He was settling himself behind the desk, trying to work through what exactly he’d say to Essen when a pair of arms wrapped tight around his neck, nearly choking him.

He was then harshly shoved away and he looked up to see Kristen, fuming down at him. He rubbed his neck and she spat, “You’re a fucking asshole!”

“Kristen, what--”

“I called you a  _ billion  _ times the last two days and you ignored all my calls! Nobody knew where you were! I was so scared for you!”

Ed scorned himself for being so lazy about communicating with his friends. It was also a bit jarring seeing so many people furious with him about the same thing. He was used to concern being a cover for anger, but not the other way around.

“I’m sorry--”

“Where were you? Not even your boyfriend knew where you were!”

“You called Oswald?” Ed was flustered from the word  _ boyfriend _ . He hadn’t known people would find out so quickly. “How did you even know we were dating?”

Kristen furrowed her eyebrows and her hands left their places on her hips to fall limply at her sides in exasperation. “Well, I didn’t really until just now. Anybody with eyes can see you’re crazy about him, though.”

“Oh.”

“You’re so obvious.”

Ed blushed and busied himself with arranging the forms on his desk.

“So you two are dating?” Ed nodded at her question, a tiny smile blooming on his face. “So why were you kissing some random girl the other day?”

_ How many people knew about that? _

Ed groaned. “She was a  _ lesbian _ ! I did it as a favor because she wanted her parents off her back! I kept messing up anyway--”

Kristen giggled, her hand in front of her mouth. “Yeah, I saw that.”

Ed glowered but his anger dissipated when he saw Essen emerge from her office.

He jumped to his feet and walked briskly over to his employer, leaving Kristen to laugh at him by herself. 

“Essen!” he called and she froze, eyes meeting his for only a second before shifting away.

“Ed, what are you--”

Ed took a deep breath and looked her straight in the face. “I know you had good intentions about what you did. I know you were afraid of confrontation so you avoided me. Still, I wish you had just talked to me first.” Essen’s mouth gaped like a fish, but Ed wasn’t done. “I ran away from them for a reason. Still, thank you for being concerned about me. Next time you have any worries you can just talk to me so that we can avoid misunderstandings like this again.”

Essen’s eyes were tearing up and Ed was suddenly horrified that he’d said something offensive. “You’re right!” she exclaimed, wiping at her eyes and huffing out a laugh. “I mean, I knew that, but I made the call late one night and right after I did it, I knew I’d made a mistake. I should’ve talked to you. I was just worried that something happened and you were just alone, but it would’ve been better to just talk to you.” She patted his head awkwardly, and Ed inclined his head a little to accommodate their height difference. “Are you okay?”

Ed nodded. 

Essen smiled, eyes still teary. She then hugged him, and Ed awkwardly held her in return, surprised at how much he’d been hugged in the past twenty-four hours.

* * *

 

The library closed at 7:30 P.M. on the dot every weekday. 

Kristen had wanted to get out early so she could meet up with her friends. She invited Ed, but he’d declined. After all, his  _ boyfriend _ was coming to pick him up from work. Instead, he offered to pick up her slack and she thanked him before leaving, promising that he could hang out with her and her friends whenever he wanted.

The idea of seeing Barbara Kean again was unappealing but it was a nice gesture nonetheless.

So Ed had made the announcement that the library was closing and waited until all the patrons had cleared out before making a final sweep of the place, putting away misplaced books and throwing out scraps of paper and candy wrappers in the children’s section.

“Excuse me, sir!” someone snapped from behind him. Ed nearly dropped the copy of  _ Frankenstein  _ in his hands. “Why am I being fined for a book that isn’t overdue yet?”

Ed turned around gleefully and hugged his boyfriend. “I’m not off yet!” he exclaimed. “You’ll have to wait a bit.” Oswald’s hoodie was so  _ warm _ .

“I could  _ get  _ you off,” Oswald snarked, letting Ed go so he could pick the book off the ground.

Ed scowled at him. “Don’t joke about that if you don’t mean it.”

“God, you are so sensitive! You didn’t even let me finish!”

Ed raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Are you busy tonight?”

Ed shook his head.

“Do you want me to come over?” Oswald leaned against the bookshelf as Ed put the book away. “And over and over and--”

Ed sputtered. “What--You mean--”

“Yeah, you know what I mean.”

Ed turned away from Oswald so he couldn’t see how startlingly red his face was. He grinned into his hands. “Yes,” he said.

“I can’t hear you. Turn around.”

“Yes!” Ed said louder, refusing to budge. 

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘ _ Yes _ ’!” Ed shouted, before covering his mouth and turning to his boyfriend. “Oops, I didn’t mean to be so loud.”

“Nobody’s here, Ed. You don’t have to be a good librarian all the time.” Oswald smirked. “Besides, I’d like to see how loud you can be in a library. Some other time, of course. Tonight we’re gonna do this  _ properly _ .”

Ed smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Oswald leaned up to kiss him and Ed’s heart melted at how casual they were. It was so easy now to do what he’d never thought he’d be allowed to do.

To kiss, to profess his love, to make demands…

“Edward.”

That was not Oswald’s voice. 

Any warm feelings from today, from Ecco’s unconditional love to Kristen’s friendship to Essen’s apology to Oswald’s  _ presence _ , dissipated immediately.

The life had been snuffed out of him.

It took only one word for Ed to become Edward Nashton again, to put his chin down and stare at the ground and hope his father wasn’t too angry at him because he didn’t wanna get hit again-- _ please don’t hit me, Dad, I’m sorry _ \--and his mouth snapped shut. He didn’t look up.

“Uh… hi?” Ed could see Oswald hesitantly turning around towards the voice in his periphery. 

“Edward,” said his father’s voice again, and this time Ed was foolish enough to think it would be a good idea to look up and see his father and--

Oh, jeez, he looked really mad.

* * *

 

Edward Nashton was born on the first of April to two reluctant parents. 

At first there was a half-hearted effort to interact with him. 

His dad would try to play with him when Ed was a toddler, his mother would occasionally sing a lullaby. 

Ed’s sight faltered when he was five years old, in kindergarten. He got a vision test and was prescribed glasses. They made him look weak and small, said his father, so he forced him to join the Junior Metropolis Football team. 

The other kids laughed at him when he stumbled and tripped over his own feet and the ball never stayed in his hands for long on the rare occasions someone let him hold it. 

Ed requested to resign from the team after a few months of endless humiliation and his father finally conceded on the condition that Ed started baseball instead.

“You’re a Nashton. You gotta play at least one sport. Maybe baseball’s more your style.”

The rules of baseball did not make any sense to Ed. They seemed overly complicated and frivolous and Ed was always confused about what to do when and when not to do things.

But he didn’t complain because at least he wasn’t running anymore. He’d have to hit the ball in order to start running, after all, and he never got a single hit.

He was very good in school but bad with the other kids. He took things too seriously and failed to understand any of the jokes.

Every time he was asked to “Pull my finger!” he would, and each time he’d be disgusted to realize that everyone had the exact same reaction to having their index finger yanked.

Eddie Nashton had perfect grades and no friends.

He was weird.

He stopped going to baseball in sixth grade when he found a dead bird on the sidewalk by the field. He sat by it and poked it and then realized that there was a dark impulse to know what went on inside.

He ditched baseball so he could hide out in his father’s shed and cut open a little dead bird.

Ed was never smart enough. His grades were never good enough. He quit baseball and suddenly he had to make up for that slight with even better grades--but if straight A+s weren’t good enough for Mr. Nashton, then what could be?

Another son, maybe.

Since Edward was four years old, he’d become well-acquainted with his father’s belt and the physical manifestation of his disappointment scarring all over his skin under his shirt.

Ed only had one asset--his brain--and his father made it very clear that it wasn’t good enough.

Ed was weird, a freak. He was the laughing stock of the town. He dissected animals. He didn’t understand things that other people insisted were  _ obvious _ (his family doctor had suggested several times that Ed get screened for autism but his father insisted that the last thing Ed needed was an “excuse” for his ridiculous behavior). 

Ed was a creep.

His father didn’t want him to be a Nashton. Ed started to realize that he didn’t want to be one either.

He became plagued with the idea of being anywhere but where he was, somewhere entirely different where maybe he could find people who would like him for what he was, think that he was good enough.

He just wanted to be good enough.

Why wasn’t he ever good enough?

* * *

 

John Nashton was at the end of the bookshelf, standing straight. His face was perfectly shaven like always and it was a little strange to Ed that he looked exactly the same as before, like Ed’s absence hadn’t changed anything. They never  _ wanted  _ him back. They never wanted him at all. They just had to keep him because of what everyone else would think. They were  _ supposed _ to want him back.

“Edward Nashton, you are an adult,” his father growled. “You’ve run away from home like a spoiled child and you’ve been tormenting me and your mother for months. I have spent weeks searching for you. Your mother finally finds you and you disrespect her? After all the suffering she’s gone through for you? Do you know how long it took me to find out you would be in this stupid library?”

“I’m sorry,” Ed said on instinct, the words falling out before he could even process what his father had said.

Oswald turned back to look at Ed with his eyebrows furrowed, but his gaze quickly moved back to the only other person in the library.

“Sir,” he stated quietly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “The library is closed. I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave or Edward here will have no choice but to call the police.”

Ed watched helplessly. Technically he  _ could  _ do that, but there was no way his father would ever listen to reason. By the time the cops arrived, Ed could already be dead.

“And this guy?” his father chuckled, gesturing to Oswald. “You turned gay while you were gone, too? And I really thought my son couldn’t sink any lower. You were off, probably doing drugs, being an idiot. Now you’re prostituting yourself to some  _ fa-- _ ”

“Shut up,” Ed snapped. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“Sorry,” his father said sarcastically. “Did I hurt my little princess’s feelings?” 

Oswald inhaled suddenly, like he was about to speak, but Ed’s father cut him off before he could start.

“Happy birthday, son,” he continued. “I hope you had a fun party.” He finally acknowledged Oswald, leveling his stony gaze on him to say calmly, “Did you know Ed’s birthday was on April Fool’s Day? Almost like God wanted everyone to know his existence was a  _ joke _ .”

Oswald was quiet at that, and it almost hurt that he wasn’t saying anything in Ed’s defense. Though, to be fair, neither was Ed.

“Don’t be upset,” his father chided, turning to Ed once again. “We didn’t get you a present but if you come home and behave, maybe we’ll have the patience to not  _ murder  _ you.”

Ed felt an impulse to shudder, to cower, to start whimpering out excuses and apologies and promises. Instead, he kept his back straight and asked, “Who is ‘we’?”

“What?”

“You keep saying ‘we’, but I only see you here.”

His father scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Your mother too, obviously, you fucking smart ass.”

“Mother can’t get me a present,” Ed said. “She’s dead. She can’t do anything.”

“Ed,” Oswald’s voice warned slowly, and Ed looked down to see Oswald pressing his palm against his arm. “What are you doing?”

“I’m clearing things up,” Ed said. 

“What do you mean ‘she’s dead’?” his father grumbled, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I killed her with her peacock brooch. You remember the one you got her for Christmas? I stabbed her repeatedly in the neck with it.”

Oswald said one syllable--”Ed!”--before Ed was slammed into the bookshelf. His father’s hands around his neck, that furious snarling in his face, and yet somehow the only thing Ed could think about was how annoying it would be to pick up all the books that had crashed to the floor.

Oswald said nothing more. Perhaps he left before Mr. Nashton could turn his wrath on him. That was probably for the best, Ed thought, looking into his father’s livid eyes as his fingers pressed harder and harder against his carotid. At least Oswald would be safe.

“You killed her!” he heard his dad scream. “I should’ve done this years ago!” 

Ed had his first kiss on his twentieth birthday. 

He fell in love with a god of death and love and beauty and for some reason the god fell in love with him too.

Ed found a friend who accepted him for every weird trait and every ridiculous mannerism, who claimed many times that she wouldn’t like him as much without his strangeness. She loved him and was always there for him and that was still unthinkable; that someone would actually care about Ed as he was.

He’d found people who didn’t think he was a freak.

He found Ecco and Ivy and Essen and Kristen and maybe even Isabella to some extent.

He found  _ Oswald _ .

His vision was blurry and his throat burned with lack of oxygen but he figured it would be okay to die having met and kissed and loved a god.

“I’m sorry about this, Ed,” said a disembodied voice, simultaneously two inches from his face and four miles away from him.

There was a thud and suddenly the heat was off his neck and Ed almost missed it because now it was cold and the air that was suddenly in his lungs felt like violence. 

He was gasping for breath for a long minute but when eyes started to clear up and his pulse was pounding in his ears, he could see his father collapsed in front of him, Oswald holding Ed upright and whispering reassurances.

“What happened?” Ed asked, shocked to hear how hoarse his voice was.

“You were an idiot,” Oswald said. “You almost got yourself killed! So much for ‘clearing things up’, you fucking moron.”

“But he--” Ed gestured uselessly to his father’s prone body. 

“Yeah, I went to find something to hit him with and I found a chair. I hit him as hard as I could and I saved your ass.”

Ed’s father groaned from below them. 

“He’s still alive.”

“What do you want to do with him?” Oswald asked. 

“He can’t live,” Ed said. “He knows I killed my mom. He wants me dead.”

Oswald could easily be snarky, seeing as it was Ed who confessed for the sake of upsetting his father, but instead he said, “I know. I’m sorry, Ed.”

“I’m not.”

Oswald’s breath was uneven and Ed finally looked up at his savior, whose face was flushed pink and who looked much less put-together than usual. His hair was a ruffled mess. “I could call Fish’s people, have them deal with him. Or I could do it, and you could just wait somewhere else while I clean it up.”

“I would rather not,” Ed said, reaching for Oswald’s hand and holding it tight. “He insulted you. And he tried to kill me. Would you like to--together--?” Ed was blushing again, averting his eyes. How stupid! He was acting like he was asking Oswald out on a date instead of asking him to kill his father with him. “You don’t have to--” Ed continued, suddenly ashamed. “I mean, killing people isn’t--”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I did it,” Oswald professed. Ed glanced at his boyfriend just in time for Oswald to pet his hair. “You really think everything I do revolves around you, don’t you? I had a life before I met the mysterious Edward Nygma, you know.”

“Oh,” Ed said. “Do you want to--maybe--”

“Kill your father with you?” Oswald asked. “I’d be delighted.”

* * *

 

Oswald had a knife on his person at all times, a revelation that had Ed clapping excitedly as his father wriggled, duct-taped to his chair.

Oswald had asked politely if Ed had anything left to say to his father, but Ed couldn’t think of anything. He just looked at his eyes, pleading and terrified, and wondered how many times he had that same look in his eyes that his father ignored.

“This is for your own good,” Ed stated sternly, trying to force as much authority into his voice as possible. “Remember, I’m doing this because I love you. I don’t want to do this but you gave me no other choice.” His father could not respond. His mouth was taped shut.

“Jesus, Ed,” Oswald said from behind him. “Did he say that shit like that to you?”

Ed hesitated before nodding and Oswald’s eyes flashed with anger. 

“Let’s tear this bastard apart.”

They took turns with the knife, and Oswald walked Ed through it, how to miss the vital areas so the victim (and it was such a thrill to think of John Nashton as a “victim” instead of as the “predator”!) would live as long as possible.

“Did you know that the average human body has about a gallon and a half of blood?” Ed asked cheerfully, looking at his boyfriend, painted crimson. 

“No, I did not,” Oswald answered with a smile. “You want to drain him of his?”

“Exsanguinate him?” Ed gasped and then started giggling. “He’d be much easier to dispose of that way!”

Oswald waved him off. “We’re not doing anything. Once we’re done here, I’m calling Mooney’s guys and they’re gonna leave this library  _ spotless _ . They’ll handle the security footage too. You don’t have to worry about a thing. Draining his blood was just a joke but if you want to--”

“ _ Yes!” _

It turned out that it was tricky to effectively exsanguinate someone with just a knife, so they ditched the idea and instead went back and forth with removing organs. Oswald was mostly just indulging whatever whim popped into Ed’s head, so when Ed exclaimed, “Let’s look at his liver!” Oswald helped him cut the organ out.

They were in the back of a car Oswald called for, both soaked in about a gallon of Ed’s father’s blood.

The goons had been called and were now taking care of clean up. 

Lucky for Ed, the night janitor wouldn’t show up for at least another hour.

Oswald had ordered the driver to take them to Ecco and Ed’s apartment, because a promise had yet to be fulfilled.

Ed stared into Oswald’s eyes, and Oswald stared back.

He reminded himself that it was unhealthy to kiss while smothered in someone else’s blood. That did not eliminate the urge.

“We’re both gonna have to get cleaned up before we do anything,” Oswald said firmly.

“And I have to make dinner. For us. And Ecco.”

“Ecco will be there?” Oswald asked hesitantly.

“Only for a bit before she has to go to work. I make her dinner so she’s not hungry on her shift.”

“So she’ll be out of the apartment when…”

“When we have sex?” Ed asked. “Yes.”

Oswald blushed. “You didn’t have to say it like that. Jesus, Ed.”

Ed didn’t know why he wouldn’t say it like that, since that was what they were planning on doing.

When they both fell into the apartment, coated in red, Ecco screamed.

“What the fuck happened?!” she yelled.

“We ran into someone,” Ed explained. “Several times. With a knife.”

Oswald snickered. “That’s a dumb joke.”

Ecco glared at Oswald. “You’re dragging him into mob shit? I told you not to do that!”

Oswald lifted his hands in surrender. “We didn’t! I swear, it was his idea, and it wasn’t any mob guys! It was his  _ dad _ .”

“Oh,” Ecco’s face softened. “Oh, no, Ed, your throat!” She ran forward and her fingers hovered over where there were probably marks on his skin. “Your dad did this?”

Ed nodded. “Oswald saved me.”

Ecco’s concerned expression remained as she observed the marks. “Geez, Ed, maybe you should go to the hospital.”

“I’m fine,” Ed said. “Besides, I wanted to make you dinner before your shift.”

Ecco beamed. “Aw, shucks, Eddie, you’re always thinking of me, huh?”

“I can’t have you eating cereal for dinner,” he retorted and Ecco shoved him lightly and ordered him to get cleaned up.

After their two respective showers (because Oswald insisted on separate showers and Ed conceded in order to keep Ecco from being uncomfortable), Oswald and Ecco were sitting on the couch, bickering about what to watch during dinner, while Ed cooked pasta and garlic bread. It was nice cooking while listening to his two favorite people talk.

Both Oswald and Ecco cheered when Ed brought out the dishes full of pasta for them, leading him to smile proudly, as if this wasn’t a meal he’d made a hundred times.

They watched an episode of a sitcom, with Ecco booing at all the misogynistic jokes (of which there were quite a few) and Oswald complaining about how straight the plot was.

Ecco whined about having to leave for work, kissing Oswald on the forehead (inciting him to glare) and Ed on both cheeks.

“You better take care of him, Oswald!” Ecco cried as she hovered in the doorway. “If you hurt him in any way whatsoever--”

“What about if he hurts me?” Oswald shot back.

Ecco gave him an unamused look. “What’s he gonna do? He’s, like, obsessed with you. He’s just a baby, so take good care of him!”

“I’m older than you!” Ed protested, only to be met with the slam of the door.

They were alone now.

Ed’s face was very hot for some reason.

“So…” he trailed off, trying to think of a sexy segue, to no avail.

“Your birthday was on the first?” Oswald asked, voice soft. Ed nodded, wondering why that was relevant. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For leaving you. And I didn’t get you a present.”

Ed laughed. “You kissed me and gave me your hoodie. That was a pretty great birthday.”

Oswald looked skeptical but didn’t argue, instead opting to kiss Ed as chastely as possible. “Happy birthday, Ed,” he whispered as he drew away. 

A small giggle fell out of Ed’s mouth. “Th--thank you.”

Oswald was looking at him strangely, and Ed was turning beet-red from embarrassment, so he got up in a rush. “I should clear the dishes and wash them and… and then maybe we can, you know, go to bed or something.”

“Have sex,” Oswald corrected.

Ed whimpered. “Why would you say that?”

Oswald smirked and then shrugged. “Go wash the dishes and then we can get you properly laid.”

Ed glared but quickly moved to obey.

* * *

 

Ed had always been ashamed of the scars he had on his torso. He wore a t-shirt to the pool and only bared his chest for the doctor.

It was hard to be ashamed of anything when Oswald was kissing them and whispering, “I love you”, over and over. 

Ed couldn’t help but whisper it back, clinging tight to the person who  _ didn’t  _ leave him behind, who saved him from his own father. 

What Oswald deserved more than anything was to be worshipped for the god that he was, to have his name spoken like it was sacred (because it was), to enjoy a human sacrifice. 

So Ed decided that since he’d no doubt be mediocre, seeing as this was his first time, he’d have to worship him the best he could.

It took quite a few kisses and gentle touches (and maybe just a little bit of pain) to open Ed up but it was worth the wait because suddenly, Oswald was so deep he could feel him in his heart.

That was, of course, physically impossible, but the feeling remained, his heart beating grape flavored blood for the most  _ amazing  _ person.

The only sounds in the room were a cacophony of soft breaths and the back and forth chanting of “yes,” “please,” and most of all, “I love you.”

When it was all over and they were cuddling on Ed’s bed, staring at the ceiling that had comforted Ed in his loneliest times, they were both beyond exhausted.

Oswald fell asleep in a matter of moments once they’d snuggled up, and Ed watched him adoringly.

This was all his.

Ed came to Gotham with a fake name and a dreadful childhood and only a few months later he was in bed with the love of his life and roommates with a friend more remarkable than any he could’ve dreamed up for himself.

Ed curled up closer to Oswald’s shoulder and listened closely to the sound of his lungs.

Maybe Oswald’s steady breathing could always be his lullaby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> play dead is now actual dead.
> 
> not to be a sappy bitch, but i am SO grateful to everyone who left a comment or supported me on twitter! even if i didn't respond to your comment, i read each one a BILLION times, especially when my self-esteem was low and they all helped me with feeling better about my writing :') I cannot thank you enough, or put my gratitude in words (which is why it was so hard to reply sometimes!)
> 
> i DO plan on making "spin-offs" for this verse, like with eccoivy and the batcat that showed up for two seconds in the carnival chapter. i really cant let go of play dead, it seems hehe!
> 
> here is the fic playlist, as promised!! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7mtadhZTDoPdRrVZzS97Tv?si=cyPxasgwSZ2VKVabbLlVZw (some songs are ed's pov, some oswald's, and LOTS of tbm because that's what this fic is all about!!)
> 
> also follow me on twitter if u want... uwu... @pis_maco
> 
> thank you all so much for reading this fic!!! i owe u my whole LIFE and i love u all to bits!!!


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